


U-Hell

by kiiexo, Kivea, LWTIS, Midori37, panaceaa, ProdigyBlood, StarsMadeinHeaven, Townycod13, TrashKat, xMadi



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiiexo/pseuds/kiiexo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWTIS/pseuds/LWTIS, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midori37/pseuds/Midori37, https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProdigyBlood/pseuds/ProdigyBlood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsMadeinHeaven/pseuds/StarsMadeinHeaven, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashKat/pseuds/TrashKat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xMadi/pseuds/xMadi
Summary: On Tuesday, the pits of Hell open just behind U-Store-It.It’s a rather muted affair, in all honesty. No prophetic warning signs the day before. No thunder, no floods, no earthquakes. Just a tremble powerful enough to make the mugs rattle on the tables of Tweak Bros before the ground split open, grey smoke silently spilling from its gaping maws.





	1. Chapter 1

On Tuesday, the pits of Hell open just behind U-Store-It.

It’s a rather muted affair, in all honesty. No prophetic warning signs the day before, be it acid rain or locust swarms. No thunder, no floods, no earthquakes. Just a tremble powerful enough to make the mugs rattle on the tables of Tweak Bros before the ground split open, grey smoke silently spilling from its gaping maws.

\---

On Wednesday, in the bus stop, Kyle glances at the dark sky with a frown.

“What’s that smell?”

“What smell?”

“Dude, it smells like something _died._ And then got set on fire.”

“Maybe Mephisto is mucking about with the ass genes again.” Stan says. He wrinkles his nose before frowning at his screen. “They want me to win _how_ many PVP battles to get this card?!”

“They’ve got your phone tapped and they know your weakness.” Cartman smirks, elbow nudging against his ribs. “They know you’re horny for the wolf costumes.”

Stan scowls, shoving him back. “Shut up! That's illegal. They can't do that.” The pause that follows is rather ominous, prompting his shoulders to stiffen with visible distress. “Right?”

“Mephisto’s experiments never reach this far.” Kyle argues. He glances at the sky again, rising to his tiptoes with a grunt. Cartman lets out a gasp.  

“My God. Guys. He's finally succeeded. He's finally reached maximum ass-capacity. What we’re smelling is the culmination of every ass combination possible!”

He illustrates the point with completely unnecessary hand gestures. Next to him, Kenny takes a tentative sniff.

“I can’t smell anything.”

-

By lunchtime, the worst of the smoke clears and the smell disappears.  
The crack in the ground doesn't.

-

Kyle arrives home just in time to see the headline flash up on the TV screen, the familiar correspondent reporting from the scene. Not even the bright pink bikini he’s wearing can distract from the cold shock of seeing the phrase ‘pits of Hell’ repeated on loop.     
When he storms upstairs and practically breaks down his brother’s door to deliver the news, Ike tilts his head.

“So does that mean we aren’t going to the zoo on Saturday?”

-

Predictably, there are crowds. The police have to be called to the scene, struggling to contain the crowd of gaping onlookers. Somewhere in the back, a familiar crowd yells about not taking kindly to unannounced portals to Hell around these parts.  
At school, there’s one assembly after another. Tired nurses deliver droning sermons on what to do in case the smoke makes a return. The Principal makes a petition to use a different phrase that excludes the word ‘Hell’ in regards to all the non-Christian students.

\---

For three days, absolutely nothing happens.

\---

Four days after the gates of Hell opened, Mr Tweak adds a new drink to his menu.

“Can I interest you in a warm cup of ‘Devil’s Kiss’?” he asks, smile serene and voice like the smoothest radio advertiser. “Hot and pure, like the rush of first love, with just a hint of cinnamon. Guaranteed to wake you ‘the hell’ up!”

Kyle can only stare, jaw slack. In front of him, Stan tugs his wallet free, ordering one in the largest cup they have.  

“I’m running on three hours’ sleep.” he says in response to his best friend’s incredulity, voice defensive.

Kyle shuffles off the to the side to dump his usual pack of sugar into his own cup, head still reeling. A sudden movement alerts him to the presence of Tweek, drying mugs at the other end of the counter with intense frustration.

“...your dad is quick to jump on a new opportunity.” he remarks.

“I want to die.” Tweek replies through gritted teeth.   

\---

Six days later, Stan’s forehead collides with the table as he collapses into his seat with a groan.

“I barely slept last night.”

Kyle makes a sympathetic noise. “Were you stuck thinking about the potential hell-horrors too?”

“What?” Stan turns his head, frown somewhat impatient. “No, dude. My Dad found a fucking harmonica in the attic, and he was up all night recording himself playing it.” He shudders, skin pale and clammy from the memories. “I think he wants to go on tour.”

-

Sometimes, Kyle catches Kenny staring out of the window, his expression unusually sombre. Calculating, almost.  
But each time, it's gone as soon as he blinks.

-

“It could be worse.”

Kyle can only gape at the boy opposite him. _“_ _How?! ”_

“There could be demons.” Craig says, much too complacent for the topic at hand. “Lava. Mutated spiders. Hell, even that gross rotten egg smell you get around volcanoes.”

A wave of agreement sweeps through the table. Kyle fights the urge to scream.

“We have no idea what’s going to happen!” he snaps, voice louder than intended. “It’s open, and anything could crawl out of it, at any time! Maybe it _will_ be mutated spiders and lava! Sitting here, just waiting and not knowing is _way worse!"_

Craig raises a single eyebrow before biting into his sandwich, impassive. “Your definition of ‘worse’ is fucked, man.”

\---

Eight days later, his mother glances up from her dinner.

“Have you filled out those applications yet, Kyle?”

He resists the urge to outright scowl, stabbing at his potatoes.. “...No.”

“Well, get to it then! You don’t want to be leaving it last minute.”

“I’ve kind of had a lot on my plate, Ma.” Kyle protests, voice more petulant than intended. “As you well know. That crater is still open and - “

“You need to take this seriously, Kyle!” she snaps, cutting him of abruptly. Her glare pins him in place, razor-sharp. “I don’t want to hear any more silly excuses!”  

\---

Ten days after the pits of Hell opened, Kyle cannot take it anymore.  

Slowly and with painstaking care, he tugs the door closed behind him. The cold air bites into his skin as he tiptoes through the garden. Attention laser-focused on the windows, he completely misses the footsteps until their owner clears his throat.

“Hey, neighbour.”

By some miracle, Kyle manages to stop himself from shrieking out loud. A quick spin on his heels reveals a very familiar face, obscured behind a familiar parka.

“Shhh!” he hisses. A quick glance back at the house confirms no one has been alerted to their presence. “What are you doing out here?!”

Kenny blinks, eyes crinkling with familiar amusement. “Just got off shift. What are _you_ doing outside at 2am?”

Despite his predicament, Kyle finds himself glaring. “We have school tomorrow, Kenny! Why the fuck are you pulling graveyard shifts?”

“Free period first thing.” the other replies easily. He shifts, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder. “Are you going to check out the crater?”

_Well. So much for being discreet._

Lips pressed into a tight line, Kyle nods. “I need to see it for myself.”

He’s already spinning passing thoughts into arguments, ready to combat any request to let it go and get some rest. But Kenny just nods.

“You want company?”

-

And that’s how Kyle finds himself teetering on the edge of the pits of Hell, gripping the shoddy barrier erected by the police a week ago.

It's deeper than he anticipated. Framed by jagged rocks, the bottom is nowhere in sight. It only takes Kyle about a minute to take full inventory. Save for the unnaturally strong, eerie red light spilling from it, accompanied by the odd wisp of smoke, it is a rather unremarkable hole in the ground. There are no demons, no voices of tortured souls floating from below. No clues or explanations whatsoever.

Slumping against the barrier, Kyle lets his head tip forwards, body wrecked with sigh.  Absently, feels Kenny step next to him, swinging bag bumping against his arm.

“Disappointed?”

“...there’s _nothing_.” Kyle mutters, voice morose. He lifts his head enough to fix the crater with a glare. “I thought it’d have... _something._ Someone.  _Some_ sort of fucking clue to what this whole mess is about.”

Kenny’s chuckle is soft, simultaneously managing to annoy and soothe him. “It ain’t never that easy, is it.”

A gust of wind cuts through the field, tugging at their coats and sending an unnecessarily cruel shiver up his spine. Its howling voice echoes down the depths of the crater long after the flurry has passed. To his left, Kenny reaches up to adjust his hood.

“So. What’s on your mind?”

An ugly snort slips past Kyle's lips. “What, you want a list?”

“Sure.” the blonde says. Gloved fingers pluck at worn orange fabric, tugging it low enough to reveal a smile. “We can go alphabetically.”

Even when strained and heavy with exhaustion, his traitorous heart stutters at the sight. Quickly, he averts his gaze.

“Ma’s mad at me.”

That earns him a sympathetic wince. “What did you do?”

“I might have brought up a conversation we had when I was ten, concerning Hell.”

“...you always pick the fun topics to revisit, Kyle.” Kenny remarks, grin evident in his voice. “How did that go?”

“It was the exact same response - ‘We are Jewish, Kyle, we don’t believe in Hell’. And I said ‘Ma, the pits of literal Hell have literally opened behind U-Store-It. It was on the news. The Major is discussing potential tourist attractions centred around it for extra profit’. And then she yelled at me not to argue with her, and that was that.”

Slowly, ‘Don’t Argue With Me’ (or on special occasions, ‘Don’t Use That Tone With Me’) have begun to replace ‘Ask Your Father’ as Sheila’s stock phrase to end any argument.

There's a hum, followed by a hand patting his shoulder with deliberate clumsiness. “That's rough, buddy.”

Rolling his eyes, he knocks an elbow against skinny ribs. “Dick.” he says, trying and failing to keep the affection out of his voice. “But that’s enough Keeping Up With The Broflovskis, though. Did Karen end up finding her scarf in the end, after getting caught up in the mob rushing to see the crater?”

He sees an eyebrow raise, his attempt to dodge the topic entirely transparent. Still, Kenny bites the desperately dangled bait.

“Yeah, we hunted around when the police finally got everyone to go home and found it.” His lips twitch, twisting his smile into something a shade more bitter. “But with all the smoke pouring out of the pit on the first day, we found out Kevin has asthma. Or something like it.”

Three simple words, a thousand implications for the future. All Kyle can do is suck in a sharp breath, muffling a curse. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. He was just in bed all day, coughing and struggling to breathe properly.” Long fingers flick at the barrier aimlessly. Through the hole in his glove, Kyle can spot a bright pink band-aid around Kenny’s thumb. “He kept saying how awful the smell was too. It was hard to watch.”

A dozen terrible possibilities are already unravelling in Kyle’s mind, and with it, all the potential consequences. They all make the redhead shudder, throat tight with a whole new different kind of dread. He can’t even imagine what Kenny’s thoughts must be like, having carried the memories for a week longer than him.  

“...could you _really_ not smell anything?” he blurts out, brain latching onto the most useless detail in the whole account. “It was _vile._ ”

Kenny doesn’t reply immediately. When their eyes meet again, the blonde’s expression is slightly abashed.

“...I actually can’t smell most things these days.” he admits, voice sheepish. “The chemicals they use to clean at my night job are...pretty heavy on the nose.”

For a moment, Kyle can’t breathe. “ _Kenny -_ “

A hand thrusts itself in front of his face, as if anticipating his eruption. “It’s okay! Honestly, Kyle, it’s fine!” Fingers paw at his cheek in a placating manner before waving to emphasize his point. “I’ll get it back soon enough.”

 _“That’s not how biology works!"_ he hisses, smacking the other’s hand out of his face.  

“You’d be surprised.” Kenny replies, voice listless. His eyes brush past Kyle, focused somewhere in the distance. “It’ll happen soon enough. It’s overdue.”

On any other day, Kyle would have demanded an explanation. He would have grabbed onto Kenny, anchoring him into place until he relented. But tonight, he just drops his head into his hand, fingers digging into the tender skin of his eyelids.    
He is much too tired to be untangling more cryptic puzzles.

Worn rubber soles scrape against the ground noisily before a shoulder bumps against his own.

“...you haven’t been sleeping since this whole mess started, have you.”

That was the annoying thing about Kenny. After such a raw, honest admission of his own troubles, Kyle couldn't reciprocate with another flimsy excuse.

“This thing is driving me crazy.” he murmurs. He lets his fingers drag down his face, the admission itself feeling like a strange sort of defeat. “I can’t believe how quickly people lost interest. How it just somehow became _normal_.”

Beneath his gesticulations, the crater remains silent. All of a sudden, it’s insultingly infuriating.

“I know I’m - repeating myself but this whole situation is so _frustrating_. Is this the beginning of the end? Is this something that I’m not going to remember in a years’ time?” He forces himself to take a deep breath, voice threatening to escalate to a yell. “Do we need to start running _now_ to put in enough distance between us and South Park by the time something really goes wrong? Do I scream louder? Or are they right and this is just another _stupid_ thing that _won’t matter?”_   

The last sentence tumbles out with a strained sort of desperation. The sound of his voice bounces off the rocks, still echoing as Kenny’s arm moves to slide around his shoulder, tugging him close. He doesn’t fight it.

“And I can’t just turn my brain off. Trust me. If I could, my life would be so much easier.”  

He feels the blonde’s hum before hearing it. Fingers tap a slow pattern against his shoulder before tightening their grip.

“Whatever happens, we will deal with it.” Kenny says. There’s not a trace of doubt in his voice. “I’m sure there’s nothing the pits of Hell can spit out that you couldn’t handle.”

The wind picks up again, sweeping through with renewed intensity. This time, Kyle pays it little mind - the world having been reduced to the grounding, solid mass of Kenny’s body. For a glorious few moments, the rest fades into white noise.

“But that’s enough brooding.” the blonde suddenly exclaims. Cruelly, he withdraws his arm, tugging on Kyle’s wrist instead. “You’re going to go to bed tonight wearing a smile.”

“Kenny, I don’t - “

“Come on, sweetcheeks.” Kenny coos. In the red light of the crater, the glint in his eyes looks almost demonic. “I didn’t come with you on a romantic midnight stroll to have you frowning all night.”

Kyle promptly chokes on his own tongue.

“A _wh_ -”

“Look around you! This is the literal definition of a - ”

“Kenneth, don’t you dare - “

“ _Hot. Date_.”

Silently, Kyle contemplates the merits of pushing the blonde into the crater.

“I didn’t think your pick-up lines could get any worse - yet here we are.”

“I’ll have you know that my pick-up lines have an extremely high success rate. With people with _good taste._ ”

Crossing his arms, Kyle makes a show of glancing around. “Is that your secret then? Dinner and show by the romantic mood-light of Hell, with an operatic backing provided by Satan?”

“Satan's more of a Britney guy.” Kenny answers easily. He's already scrolling through his phone, brows furrowed in concentration. “Shy though. Can't really let loose unless it's karaoke - ahh. Here we go.”

With a dramatic flourish, he swipes a finger across the screen. Brassy notes blare from the phone’s battered speakers, morphing into the familiar sound of the royalty-free jazz commonly used in porn parodies.

“I hate you so much.”

Carefully, Kenny sets his bag on the ground, phone balancing on top of it. He closes the distance between them in two confident steps, sly grin matching his tone as he reaches for Kyle’s hands.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

To his credit, Kyle would like to maintain that he put up a decent protest. That he complained and struggled before allowing himself to be pulled into this ridiculous faux-waltz by the pits of Hell, set to a crackling soundtrack that made giggles inevitable.  
(He would also stress that he did not, at any point, step on Kenny’s feet.)

Somewhere between the third and fourth song, his head somehow ends up resting on Kenny’s shoulder, one arm wound tight around his waist.

Eventually, the playlist stutters to an end, switching over to a nineties playlist that effectively kills the mood, prompting Kyle to dive for the phone. The lingering warmth, however, remains - wrapping itself around his bones as they both dig into the depths of their pockets, celebrating the discovery of a half-eaten pack of crackers and an ancient cereal bar.   

Dinner and a show indeed.

When the hour slips just shy of 3am and Kenny suggest heading home, it’s easy to agree.  
And when his head hits his pillow, for the first time in ten days, Kyle finds himself drifting off to sleep painlessly.  

\---

At 5.45am, just as the first rays of the sun start peeking over the horizon, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming message.

 

-

AN:

_Chapter author: LWTIS_

Welcome to the K2 Fanfic Project - a big collaboration where each chapter is written by a different author. We have some fantastic writers on board, and we're so excited to see where it takes us :D We really hope you guys enjoy it!


	2. Chapter 2

Light dangles at the edge of his fingertips but he can’t quite reach it. After all, there’s only so much that can be achieved through hard work.

Hard work can do a great many for the small and insignificant, individuals such as this pointless fool reaching desperately for the sun, but there’s a limit to all things.

This limit stretches forever. It takes away from those who need and twists their desires into the rays of light, just out of reach.

There’s no significance to his grab at the fading light. He’s lost in the shadows and that’s where he’ll remain.

Hard work can put food on his table but it can’t reattach a leg. Or drag his innards back inside.

A gurgle of despair makes itself known among the rubble but that too doesn’t hold any importance.

Whatever the small human is saying will always be meaningless.

\--

Two more days of nothing and it starts to show in the way Kyle holds his textbooks. He pushes through halls with more force than necessary and brandishes books like weapons.

Those who know him give him a wide berth. Those who don’t, learn how to.

He checks his phone more often, frustration furrowing between his brows as he corresponds with an unknown party.

Stan isn’t bothering to look up from his addiction of choice and Cartman is off on another insane venture, so Kenny decides his best course of action is to keep his head low and keep an eye on the situation from a safe distance.

“Everyone has gone _crazy_.”

Kyle’s rants haven’t changed much for the time being. That’s a relief in some ways, there’s something fascinating about the stolidly determined individuals of this world. Kenny could listen to that resolute voice for some time without growing bored.

“You’ve said.”

Stan’s replies aren’t creative either. Though judging for the intensity with which he’s swiping at his phone, it’s probably a stock response. He had a great many of those reserved for his split focus.

It isn’t until Kyle’s voice breaks the typical pattern that Kenny pays the exchange any real attention, “Oh, hey Kenny, I almost forgot.”

Kenny looks up from his own lunchtime distraction, his battered old PSP, and up to the brown bag held an inch from his face.

The boy responds slowly, eyes darting from the bag to Kyle’s face, and hopefully towards Stan for an explanation.

None is immediately offered so Kenny accepts the bag with a shrug, “What’s this?”

“Lunch, dude. I made one for both me and Ike this morning but the brat said he didn’t want it.” Kyle says, “I swear that little asshole’s attitude is getting worse by the day.”

“...thanks?” Kenny doesn’t really waste much time looking the gift horse in the mouth. _Ya snooze, you don’t eat_ is a personal creed he lives by.

“Why’d you give it to Kenny?” Stan asks, finally putting his phone down for what is sure to be a thrilling four to five minutes.

Kyle shoots Stan a look and to all observing parties, it’s clear there’s some sort of super best friend conversation happening telepathically.

Kenny makes a point not to observe and eats his newly acquired sandwich in silence.

“--well let’s ask him then!” Kyle finally snaps, losing whatever battle he and Stan had engaged in, “Kenny, you don’t mind, right?”

Kenny, chewing the last of the apple slices and washing it down with a capri sun, quirks his head, “Mind what?”

Stan pinches his nose, “Goddamnit.”

“See!” Kyle says, triumph dancing in his eyes.

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t _assume_ , you should ask.” The defeat in Stan’s voice isn’t well matched with his determined frown.

That’s all that’s said on the matter and Kenny decides against enquiring further. It wasn’t his business what crawls up the rectal cavities of the two _super duper best friends_.

He doesn’t miss Cartman’s presence at the table. Asshole was ripping on him more times than he said hello.

He does feel the absence though. Cartman is awful but--

He blanks on a way to end the thought and figures there isn’t a point in ending it. After all, even when Cartman isn’t off on some insane venture with Butters, he would be back here with Butters.

And that just meant that everyone had a super best friend but Kenny.

“Thanks for the food, Brof!” Kenny says, interrupting their not-argument with a salute-like wave as he begins his departure, “I gotta run though, catch the two of you later.”

He knows he’s trying to run fast enough for his thoughts not to catch up.

He also knows such an effort is futile.

He’ll run towards the fantasy of other thoughts, thoughts that aren’t insignificant at best and a toxin slowly tearing apart his insides more casually.

There are nice things in his thoughts he can run towards.

The way an awkward dancer stepped on his toes.

The complete rapt attention glimmering in eyes as amusement threatened the corners of pouty lips.

The world created for just the two of them in a ridiculous moment in history.

It’s alright that he can only chase those scenes in thoughts. It’s better that way.

Maybe he’s only meant to have moments like that at the edge of hell.

\--

“What are you doing?”

Kenny looks up from his task and shrugs. Sometimes motions work better than actual answers.

“You’re sewing.” Kyle points out, taking a seat next to him and Kenny spends a moment to wonder what would bring Kyle to detention.

Then he remembers this is Kyle and lets the thought slide away.

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

This conversation is probably going to warrant a response, “Home ec, dude.”

This isn’t enough apparently, “You’re patching a skirt for home ec?”

“Karen ripped it when she lost her scarf, figured it was a good a time as any to break out my mad skills.”

Kyle hums and watches the progress. Kenny tries not to stab his finger. Considering how over-due he is, it would probably result in bleeding out.

It would really suck to destroy Karen’s skirt while he was trying to patch the damn thing up.

“What’d you do to end up in here?” Kyle fills the silence with his inquiry and something about it is strange to Kenny, but he can’t put his finger on it.

“I was sleeping in class.”

Kyle nudges his side, completely disregarding the danger of needles but luckily not committing murder by proxy, “That’s why I told you to quit that stupid night job.”

Did he? Kenny tries to draw the conversation into his memory but it doesn’t come easily. So he assumes it happened without his notice.

“You’re asking a lot of questions.”

Kenny doesn’t realize he’s said it until too late and the soft warmth has left his side. He sort of wishes he’d been the victim of a needle-death.

“So?” Kyle’s voice is definitively defensive, “What’s wrong with that?”

Kenny shrugs his shoulders and allows himself a moment to select the best response.

His mouth, a treacherous bastard, selects the first option without regard for sense.

“You don’t, much, ask questions.”

Kyle’s head actually rears back in offense, “The hell I don’t.”

“I mean--” _about me_ , doesn’t seem like an answer Kyle will take well, “Considering hell is on earth, should you be using that language? _Tsk_ , why Broflovski, I didn’t take you for the blasphemous sort.”

Deflection is a great friend and a loving companion.

Kyle nudges him again and the words aren’t funny but still there’s an amused smile touching his lips that engraves itself into Kenny’s thoughts.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Kyle looks down to the abandoned needlework, “Don’t you need to finish that?”

“Not as badly as I need to--”

“Fucking shit Kenny, I swear to god if you--”

“-- _finish_.”

“I’m ending my friendship with you.”

\--

“Hell is such under-explored business opportunity.”

Kenny sort of wonders what he’s doing here. Butters is nodding along happily with Cartman’s every word, occasionally fitting in a _yeah_ and _you tell ‘im, Eric_! into the sales pitch.

Kenny thinks the hapless business owner should probably slam the door on all three of them.

Kenny sees a _now hiring_ sign and contemplates hanging back when Cartman moves on in order to fill out an application.

He’s superfluous in the scene.

“Isn’t Eric so smart?”

Butters’ guileless eyes meet his own and Kenny just shrugs. If Butters wants to follow that road to hell, it was his own doing.

All roads seem to lead to hell these days, rumor has it the hole had actually increased in diameter.

Cartman adjusts his tie when the door is finally closed, his cut-throat business tactics already earning him an opportunity to shelve his product here.

What was Cartman selling this time? It was getting hard to keep track.

Cartman and Butters continued down the road without once looking back. Kenny lets the thought sit with him as he pursues a more achievable source of income.

They’ll be okay without him.

\--

“Dude, would you hurry up?”

Kenny puts it down and hurries to the part of the store where Stan and Kyle waited.

“What the hell took so long? You didn’t even buy anything.” Stan grumbles. He’s been extra grouchy since Kyle confiscated his phone earlier.

Kenny shrugs and Stan accepts it as an answer, marching away from the dollar store and towards a more interesting part of the mall. Kyle strangely keeps pace with him, “Looking at a gift for Karen?”

Kenny draws a blank, “Huh?”

“I saw you looking at the hair and beauty section. I figured you were getting something for Karen.” Kyle elaborates, always happy to expand on his deductive abilities.

 _Cute_.

Kenny nods non committedly, “Did you hear about Cartman’s latest scam?”

Kyle’s face darkens and that was a dumb thing to say. He half expects Kyle to jog up to where Stan is stomping up ahead and completely end the conversation.

“ _How could I not_?! Did you hear about the fucking mugs? He’s claiming they’re cursed! And--”

Kenny doesn’t smile because Kyle would probably take it the wrong way.

It’s an undeniable fact that Kyle’s face lit with emotion is a sight to see. It’s Kenny’s personal fact that it’s an enjoyable one.

\--

Evening doesn’t like to wait for those who believe in the benefits of vitamin D. Kenny could swear the sun was setting earlier and earlier just to taunt him.

“ _Dennis_ , have you finished cleaning the storeroom?”

Twice over but he’s not going to admit that, not with the last of sunlight disappearing behind the colorful expanse of night.

He really wanted to get off work before dark today. He’d yet to have the opportunity to look over the Doom Pit of Probably Satanic Origin in the day time. It probably wouldn’t make much of a difference but while Kyle was one giant overreaction, the whole of South Park was still an under-reaction.

There was probably something that needed to be done. Not that Kenny was up for it, but something ought to be done.

Probably.

“Dennis?”

Kenny shoots back a generic response, dragging his eyes away from the sky and prepares to finish his shift. Only thirty more minutes of this and then it’s onto the next means of transforming labor into cash.

“Kenny?”

Well, that’s not a name he hears often at his place of employment. Even his name-tag reads out the wrong name.

Kyle’s near the register while Mr. Lu Kim rings him up. Without a word the man lets his _child labor force_ take over at the task, wandering to who knows where.

“Hey, dude.” Kenny says with a don’t-ask smile. Not that he really needs to, it’s not like his friends ever ask. “What brings you to this shitty establishment?” Kenny squints at the order, “Getting yourself some shitty chow mein?”

Oh, that one earned him half an amused smile, Kenny made a note to keep up the shitty humor.

“I’m meeting someone here.” Kyle says, not leaving a tip in the perpetually empty jar. Kenny didn’t expect much better but he still hoped from time to time.

“Oh, Stan?”

“Dude, if I was meeting Stan, I’d just say I was meeting Stan.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

Kenny spends all of half a second wracking his brain for other people Kyle was chumming with before slapping the thought down.

It wasn’t his business. If Kyle wanted to share, he would.

Kyle was here to meet someone and he didn’t want people to know who.

Good thing Kenny was making himself scarce in a few minutes, he didn’t really want to be around to see.

“When do you get off?”

Kenny blinks but the world still looks the same drab shade of shitty wok when he’s reopened them and looks back to his friend. The transaction should be over and there wasn’t really a point in lingering.

“Uh, in a few minutes?” Kenny glances towards the clock ticking tauntingly slow towards the hour mark, “Might be sooner if Mr. Lu Kim tells me to buzz off. He does if we’re really empty sometimes.”

“That’s good.”

It clicks in Kenny’s head. Kyle _really_ didn’t want anyone to know who he was meeting. The mystery texter?

Does it matter? It certainly doesn’t because Kyle’s glancing at his phone anxiously and Kenny makes choice for them both and calls to the back, “Mr. Lu Kim? Is it okay if I take off early?”

The affirmative grunt he receives is all he needs to begin removing his apron and heading off to find his time card.

“Catch ya later, Brof!” Kenny salutes as he disappears and he thinks he sees relief in Kyle’s shoulders so he knows he made the right move.

His heart, somewhere in the premises of his toes and soaking up every negative emotion it can from the disgusting residue on the shitty floor of this shitty place, disagrees strongly.

He does what he normally does with such complaints lodged by the blood pumping organ, he moves his feet with further purpose than before clocking out and out the back door before the pain seeps into his veins.

That was the trouble with pain from that organ. Its toxic agony oozed through the entirety of his body and expanded in an explosion of hurt within every inch of him.

Just like his thoughts though, he would just run away from the emotions fast enough to find a good one. His next job paid more and now he was early so maybe he could get an extra hour--

“Kenny, dude, where are you rushing off to?”

Someone has to explain in simple words why Kyle is waiting at the entrance to the alley. Kenny draws a complete blank on the matter and looking behind him doesn’t seem to offer any explanation either.

Luckily, Kyle Broflovski can always be counted on to fill silence. It was probably an allergy to the lack of sound, “C’mon, let’s go!”

Kenny follows but an itch in his brain suggests danger.

“Where are we goin’?” he aims for casual, swinging his arms as he catches up to Kyle. The other boy snorts.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, first that stuff with Stan and now this. Dude, hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

A warm hand wraps around his own and drags him forward and he doesn’t have the will to fight it.

Why fight it? What would be the point?

Kyle wants to go out and play, for whatever insane reason, maybe they made plans and Kenny forgot? It didn’t make sense but it wasn’t a bad thing.

It’s probably the sensation of his heart dancing the warmth around his fingertips that makes it so hard to think.

His feet stop.

Skidding in the earth and stopping the both of them in one cruel move.

Ah, his treacherous feet. So lonely without his heart to keep them company. They were just jealous, he should force them forward.

“Dude, I can’t, I have work.” Kenny pulls his hand back and chilly air actually stings his flesh.

Kyle’s eyes are a mirror of confused hurt, “If you have work, why did you make plans with me?”

His mind spirals for an explanation but the only one that tumbles past his lips is the truth.

“I didn’t.”

\--

Mornings don’t make the world easier.

Kenny pulls himself out of bed despite the early hour and directly in opposition to the unspoken rules of Saturday etiquette. He tries not to feel the sting on his cheek but it’s a futile effort.

He has things to do today and the sunlight outside can wait. He has to go through the bills, at least two are due next week, and do the normal rounds of sending his resume places. Afterwards there’s grocery shopping and then--

Kevin’s sitting at the kitchen table looking lifeless. More and more lately it feels like the hellish miasma is taking its toll.

What would the total cost be? Kenny itches to go to the pit and find more information about the hell seeping onto earth.

He really is overdue. Perhaps he should speed along the process and ask Satan in person?

“Hey, Ken.” Kevin greets and his coffee mug is empty so Kenny pours some of the sludge into his cup and sits down, “I heard you getting in pretty late last nig--”

The bloodcurdling scream cuts into boring morning day to day and it travels all the way down Kenny’s spine.

It’s a familiar scream. It’s one any South Park native has heard many times before times of great trial.

It’s the sound of Sheila Broflovski losing her shit.

“ _Where’s my baby boy?!_ ”

\--

Ike Broflovski is missing.

He’s not alone.

Two other children disappeared from their beds the night before.

Kenny stares into the pit behind the U-Store-It and finds the sunlight isn’t as informative as he might like it to be.

There has to be an explanation. Something he can find, something he can fix.

A firm pressure on his back is all he feels before he’s sent to a painful death, reaching towards the warmth of daylight with his last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter by townycod13 x'3 thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Crimson radiant pit of hell was still there. Still the same. Unchanged. In the middle of the night there was absolute silence. No quiet voices of the city. No sounds of nature.

Maybe it was because of all the noise in Kyle’s head right now.

The low hum repeating itself, over and over and over in the young boy’s head.

Ike was missing.

And there wasn’t any trope that could tell him where the hell he had gone to.

Any clue.

It was already dark and cold when Kyle’s mind has finally stopped wandering. As soon as Ike disappeared, he had to do something. First step was to check his room. Doors, windows. Try to call him, but Ike’s phone was still in that room. Search the mobile to see if there are any weird messages, notes. Google history. Then the police arrived and he had to give up everything he was doing.

Didn’t find anything.

Rest of the day was a blur. He just ran out of the house and looked all over the city. His phone was buzzing but he didn’t care.

At some point his feet wandered by themselves before the dark red-lighted eye of the abyss.

The thing that was known of Kyle Broflovski was - the boy hated being helpless. He needed to go back home. Start making posters, call all the places where Ike could be, call his friends… He couldn’t leave it all to the Police.

Talking about friends…

Kyle finally took a look at his phone, which still buzzed from time to time. About 30 calls from parents - they’re gonna murder him - and even more from his friends. Mostly from Stan. And unread messages.

Quickly he pressed the messenger icon to check texts.

His mother worrying, his father telling him to come home. Some text from Wendy and Token asking how he’s doing, Token talking about canceling today’s basketball training. Heidi wants to meet, Butters being Butters. Also Stan, finally gave up in trying to contact Kyle about an hour ago.

And he was pretty much angry with him.

That’s understandable. He would be mad at this kind of behavior too. It seemed that the only thing that calmed Stan was that Tweek and Craig had seen Kyle somewhere over the streets not so long ago.

Thank God, Stan should understand him too.

Kyle took one last look at the dark pit. It was a little bit ridiculous to even stand here right now. He didn’t even know why he was in this place. Maybe just because this hole has been occupying his mind for last several days. But thinking of Ike… it didn’t really sound related. His missing brother and a gate to hell.

Or did it?

Finally, he took a step away from the crater and decided to head home.  


________________

 

Kyle took a shortcut home through the forest, nearby Kenny’s house. When he was close enough, he could see some fuss at the McCormick’s. Okay, maybe not exactly a fuss, but something was a little bit off.

Usually it was Kenny’s parents that were arguing and throwing things at each other.

This time, he saw Karen being all worried and raising her voice. Whether he liked it or not, he heard some of the phrases. Something about ‘never giving any fucks’, ‘Kenny’s trying his best’ and ‘Kevin needing help’.

Also something about someone missing.

To be honest, he didn’t really want to interrupt, or overhear any more.

It was not the first time arguments rose in the McCormick’s household, nor the first time he was a witness of one. He wasn’t able to spot Kenny, but decided to ask him later. Or just see if Kenny would be the one to talk.

________________

 

“I finished this street, I think we should get to the other part of the town.”

Stan’s voice made Kyle jump in place. He’d been looking at the signboard of the U-Store-It for a while now, not even realizing it.

He looked at his best friend with eyes a little bit wider than usual.

“Yeah?” he half-said, half-asked, tone higher than normal. Stan blinked slowly, raising his eyebrows in the proces.

“Yes? I mean, the posters are everywhere here now, I guess. We should take care of the other part, and then maybe move to the nearby towns next? I mean...” he took a moment to gaze at Kyle from head to toe. “...it was your idea, after all.”

Right.

Kyle swallowed, standing up from the bench he’d been sitting on, taking the remaining posters that they haven’t hanged yet with him .

“Yes, of course. Just… you know.” he said as he made some unreadable gestures with his free hand. “...Kinda wandered… off…”

Stan didn’t look pleased, nor angry. Kind of worrying. Ike was like a little brother to him too, he was stressed out too. Just doing his best to not to let it show - Kyle guessed.

“You know,” Stan started once they were already on their way. “We could take a break after this. Play some games to relax… just…” Kyle tensed up, and clearly, Stan felt it wasn’t the best idea to bring up any kind of procrastination right now. “Listen, you haven’t gotten any sleep this night, and do not even try to argue with me that you did - I see the dark circles under your eyes and they’ve been there for a while now - and I don’t believe you have eaten anything since yesterday. I’ve heard your stomach a few times… Kyle just-”

“I’m fine.” he cut in Stan’s lecture. He didn’t need this. “I’ll rest when I’ll feel like I can do this. For fucks sake, Stan! You’ve known me long enough to know that I can’t just…” Kyle stopped suddenly, and stared in disbelief at his friend. “Stan, I can’t just do nothing. I’d rather just pull all of my hair out than not do anything when I know how much I can still do! And you know it! So cut it out.”

The rough voices were followed by an unpleasant silence as they started walking again.

It lasted for a while, till Stan broke it again.

“Yeah, I know. Let’s do our best.  


________________

 

Kenny didn’t show up in school. Or at least Kyle didn’t seen him at lunch break. When he thought about it, he hasn't seen Kenny for the last few days now.

He had been pretty occupied, but didn’t feel like it was an excuse.

It felt like he was a bad friend, but on the other hand - it wasn’t unusual for Kenny to not show up for several days.

Kyle sat straight in his seat.

But Kenny didn’t even text him anything about Ike.

And it wasn’t something he would do. Kenny was a lot of things, but he was a protective and caring person. It was hard to believe that he didn’t care, at least a little bit, about Ike.

Even if something was off the last time they saw each other, he has never been the one to hold a grudge. Kyle wasn’t even sure if they had a fight or what. It was just weird. But anyways, it didn’t seem like something that would make them hostile. Just… he didn’t know, some miscommunication or something.

Not thinking about the strange behavior from the past, he wrote a quick message to Kenny.

_‘Wanna hang out? I’ll get you at the end of your shift at City Wok’_

________________

 

Kenny never answered the text, but Kyle guessed that maybe the other boy hadn’t had time.

When he arrived at the Chinese restaurant, it was already dark and close to 6 pm, close to the end of Kenny’s Mondays shifts.

The store was mostly empty, with just Mr. Kim behind the counter. No kids in sight. Probably all the parents were now worrying over them, and wouldn’t let them out after the dark. Not even off to work.

He could too easily imagine that in times like this, Kenny would be the only one working here. No matter how old he was.

He made his way to Mr. Kim, whose eyes lit up when he saw the customer.

“Ah, welcome welcome to City Wok!” said Mr. Kim in a heavy accent. “Do you want to buy anything?” was almost the automatic question.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. I’m looking for my friend, Kenny. He should be working today here if I remember his schedule right.”

The owner of the City Wok looked confused.

“Kenny? I don’t remember someone like that… I mean, I have a lot of child labor maybe he’s one of them. Hard to remember all the kids.”

Kyle frowned, feeling a little uneasy.

“It’s alright. Is he maybe working right now?”

Mr. Kim looked even more lost now.

“I’m sorry kid, but I don’t remember having anybody at this shift for now. I think I had someone but this spot is empty…” he looked back at Kyle, lighting up again. “Maybe you! Do you want to work? I have plenty of spots empty!”

Kyle felt like his chest became heavier. “No, no. Thank you, sir. But do you really not…” He remembered that Mr. Kim never called Kenny his real name. “...Could you maybe remember… Dennis? He’s this tall and blonde…” he started giving the description of Kenny as good as he thought he could.

But the expression of Mr. Kim told him the same thing he himself said earlier. He didn’t have a clue about who Kyle was talking about. So he stopped.

“I’m sorry kid, I’ve never seen this person.”

________________

 

Turns out, nobody remembered or knew where Kenny was. Some were sure he went on some kind of trip, some thought that he must be at some job. The good thing was - it was rather uncommon for people to not remember him at all.

But nobody really cared about what happened to him. And it wasn’t like they didn’t care in general. It was just like Kyle was… overreacting. They were all calm.

The thing was, sometimes the same people gave other excuses why Kenny was not present.

Sometimes they just stared at Kyle with a smile and never said anything.

At this moment, Kyle didn’t really need this kind of thing creeping him out.  


________________

 

On Wednesday, when he started to think that he’d gone crazy, Kyle saw a small note next to one of Ike-is-missing posters. Not any pictures. Just a page out of the notebook with text stating that Kenny was missing, and anybody who knew anything was asked to go to the McCormick’s household.

So, he did go to his friend’s home. Again. It was one of the first things he already did when Kenny didn’t meet him at City Wok, but unfortunately, his parents weren’t really talkative.

This time, it wasn’t his parents that opened the door.

It was Karen. To say that she looked like a mess would be a real understatement. She had darker circles under her eyes than him - and he got the paler carnation, so that was something worth a prize. Her bangs weren’t all in the right place, and her hair looked like it desperately needed some brushing. Kenny’s old oversized T-shirt looked almost like a dress on her. But the worst was her stare - empty, tired.

“I thought you might show up.”

Hearing those words, Kyle was even more lost.

“You thought?”

She just nodded, and took a look back at the inside of the house.

“It’ll be better to talk in my room, don’t you think? Come on.”

The living room had seen better days. Carol was passed out, probably drunk, on the couch. She tried to be a better parent these last few years, but sometimes she still ended up in this state. As did her husband. They probably didn’t know what to do with Kevin right now.

Not much of an excuse, but Kyle could understand this on some level.

When the teens got into Karen’s room, door closed, Karen just sat on the bed and looked at Kyle again.

“You’re here because of Kenny, aren’t you?”

Kyle felt something like hope lighting up his insides.

“Yeah. He’s... “ He stopped, a little afraid of Karen’s reaction to his next words. “He’s missing, right? I haven’t seen him in a while and everyone is talking like nothing happened and…” And with this whole mess of Ike missing, and the pits of hell opening in South Park, he really was on edge.

Karen looked relieved, but not surprised.

“Well, yeah. I haven’t seen him. He… sometimes he just, you know.” She took a break and frowned, like she tried to think about something but it just didn't make much sense to her. “Disappears. But he is always back pretty quick. In a day or so. Or at least, that’s how it’s been for a long time now. I don’t really remember how it was when we were younger…”

Kyle had trouble remembering Kenny disappearing in the past. It was just like when he tried to remember an old poem he once knew by heart for literature classes, but now had trouble with recalling even the first verse.

“I can’t recall it either… But what’s the case? Do you have any clue what happened with Kenny?” He paused before asking: “Or Ike?”

Karen shook her head.

“Sorry Kyle, I don’t know anything about Ike. Wish I did.” She looked really sincere saying so. Kyle felt his shoulders drop in slight disappointment. “And I don’t know what happened to Kenny, I wouldn’t try to spread the information about him if I knew, would I?” She took a little break, looking out of the window. “But I’m sick of people who never notice him being gone. I want to know what happened and this time it’s… way longer than usual. He never tells me what happens when he disappears.”

Kyle felt something like a small, sharp pain in his chest.

‘I didn’t really notice when he disappeared before.’

He didn’t said it out loud. Looking at Karen, he saw himself. Worried about a sibling that was missing. Sick of doing nothing.

He put his hand on her arm, and smiled as genuinely as he could.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

________________

 

That Friday night, Kyle spent it at Stan’s. His friend won at last, and made Kyle rest. Finally.

They played video games and watched some stupid movie. To be honest, neither of them felt like it, but they weren’t getting anywhere right now. Didn’t have anything to do and Stan knew Kyle well enough, to know the Jewish boy would simply start climbing the walls at this rate.

Their rest time - or at least their attempt at one - was interrupted by video call from Henrietta. Stan and Kyle looked at each other before answering the call.

The goth girl looked to be in some kind of distress.

“Hi Stan, is Firkle at your house maybe?”

Stan frowned, looking from Henrietta to Kyle, and back at the girl.

“Not to my knowledge… Haven’t seen him in a while.” Henrietta bit her lower lip hearing the answer. “Something happened?” Stan asked.

She took a breath, massaging her forehead with one hand.

“I guess? We haven’t seen him since yesterday… I mean, his parents don’t know where he is either and…”

It was easy to guess what she was thinking about. Stan and Kyle weren’t clueless either.

“He just disappeared.”

________________

  


Next morning, the local press announced that three more kids went missing.

The whole town seemed terrified. It hadn’t even a whole week since the previous disappearances.

No clues on what happened. How it happened.

No witnesses. No suspects. It was just like the kids suddenly dissolved into thin air.

Kyle had enough of his mother for tonight and without two words, got out of the house.

Walked fast, not looking where he was going.

It all started to look a lot like some kind of horror novel. He really didn’t want to hear his mother ranting right now. His head felt like it could explode at any time.

He tried to get rid of most of the anger by walking faster. Before he realized, he found himself before the hole behind U-Store-It once again.

The first thing he saw was that the pit was… larger. It was almost touching the store walls now.

The second thing he saw was Kenny McCormick, standing right in front the pit, looking at Kyle with wide eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by xMadi here c:
> 
> I just wanted to thank all the people who wanted to beta-read this chapter and fixed any errors, you're true mvp here ;;;;;; I love you all so much ;;;


	4. Chapter 4

When this crazy adventure would finally be over and Kyle would feel compelled to recount his version of the story to his friends, he would categorically deny slamming against Kenny and pulling him into a crushing hug with such force it was a miracle they didn’t fall over the barrier erected around the Pits of Hell. 

The embarrassment was an issue he was going to deal with later. 

In that moment, he didn’t give a damn if people saw him. 

After all, neither Kyle’s heart galloping in his chest nor his sweating palms were as important as seeing Kenny _alive_ and well, and… completely out of it. 

Despite the desperation in Kyle’s embrace, Kenny remained completely unresponsive against his chest. No smirk on his face, no dirty pun at the tip of his tongue, no emotion in his eyes: it was like hugging a warm mannequin. 

It took all of Kyle’s will to push himself away from him. Hands still on Kenny’s shoulders, Kyle let his fingernails dig deeper into his flesh, hoping that pain could somehow get a reaction out of his friend. 

“Kenny?” His name was a choking sound coming out of his throat, a whisper almost, a tentative question, and finally – _finally!_ \- Kenny’s gaze drifted to him. 

“Kyle?” Kenny asked. The soft smile stretching across his lips sent shivers down Kyle’s spine. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Kyle said, unwilling to let go just yet. 

As if waking up from a bad dream, Kenny shook his head and blinked his catatonic state away. 

“What are you doing here?” Kenny asked. “I thought we were supposed to meet at City Wok?”

Huh? 

“What?” Kyle jumped back in surprise, loosening his hold on Kenny and almost falling on his butt in the process. “City Wok? Are you fucking kidding me? You disappeared! We’ve been searching for you since- since-! City Wok? _Seriously_?” 

“Yes, I think it’s a shitty place for a date too, but whatever floats your boat, darling,” Kenny said. Smarmy smirk back in place, there was no trace of the lost and terrified expression Kenny wore mere seconds before. “I guess seeing me in a working uniform turns you on?” 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Kyle’s blood started to boil at that. The wink that followed Kenny’s question infuriated him even further. 

“Seriously, Kenny,” Kyle hissed between gritted teeth, “I’m going to strangle you with my own hands. Where. Have. You. Been?” he asked, each word a jab to the chest. 

Eyebrows knitted, Kenny replied, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Karen is looking all over for you,” Kyle said, wondering if his sister’s name would somehow knock some sense into Kenny. 

His friend, however, looked even more confused.

“Karen?” he asked, as if hearing of her for the first time. There was a second of hesitation before Kenny tried again: “Who’s Karen?”

No other words were needed. Stomach tied up in knots, Kyle grabbed Kenny’s arm and pulled him away from that place, as if Hell itself had messed with his friend’s mind.

At this point, it was a possibility. 

As soon as he turned his back to the big black hole in the ground, Kyle suddenly became aware of its surroundings. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the hole per se, but its bottomless darkness had somehow engulfed them in its tight grasp and was now following them like a dog on a leash. Even the red light spilling from it was a blurred mess in comparison to the darkness’ intensity. As if it had literally crawled out of Hell, it changed into a strange, light mist that touched everything in its path with cold, bony fingers. A rambling sound, so similar to a jet engine, resonated in Kyle’s mind, and he let his eyes wander around him in search of its source. 

There was no one else but them. 

Kenny smiled at him, and the mist suddenly grew thicker, tenser. A soft breeze caressed the drops of sweat that formed on Kyle’s forehead. He picked up the pace, dragging Kenny with him. 

At every step, cold smoke swirled around his ankles. 

The rumbling sound followed them, getting softer the farther away they got until it was but a gentle whisper, more akin to the wind blowing through the leaves than the voice of Death herself. 

Unexpectedly, Kenny didn’t put up any resistance and kept in step with Kyle, humming a song under his breath as if they had been having a picnic. His apparent cheerfulness unnerved Kyle endlessly, but he tried to keep calm until they finally reached Jimbo’s store.

There, perhaps triggered by the shotguns in the window, Kyle snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Kyle yelled out of frustration, yanking Kenny by the front of his parka. 

“Woah!” Kenny exclaimed, arms shooting up in the air. “What got your panties in a knot?”

“You did!” Kyle shouted, feeling the blush crawl up his neck when Kenny smirked. “Will you finally snap out of it? You are driving me crazy!”

“God, if you want me to help you release some tension, I am more than willing,” Kenny said, smug. 

With a groan, Kyle shoved Kenny away and took a step backwards in stunned silence. 

Something was off. 

“I’m not in the mood, Kenny,” Kyle said. “I was really worried for you.” 

“Why?” Kenny asked, honestly confused. “I didn’t go anywhere.” 

“I-!” Biting down his next words, Kyle let his eyes wander over Kenny’s face instead, calculating. There was something wrong with Kenny’s smile, too lopsided, too forced. It didn’t quite suit him. On the contrary, it gave Kenny an intimidating appearance. 

As if reading Kyle’s thoughts, Kenny’s face slowly melted into a mask. 

Kyle’s scrunched his nose. 

“Kenny, where have you been?” 

“I told you, I didn’t go anywhere,” Kenny said. The roll of eyes that followed inflicted a painful twist in Kyle’s guts. It was such a Cartman thing to do that Kyle wondered if that fatass’ bad qualities had somehow rubbed off on Kenny and ruined him forever. 

“Do you know how worried we were?” Kenny asked, jaw set in anger. “Haven’t you thought about your friends and family _at all_ before running off like that? Your brother and-!”

“I don’t have a brother,” Kenny interrupted him, shoving his hands in his pockets. Kyle’s eyes flickered towards them for the slightest second before they drifted upwards to Kenny’s frown. It reminded a lot of Stan when got defensive, and Kyle tilted his head to the side in question.

Was this Kenny’s idea of a joke?

“Don’t bullshit me, Kenny. I’m serious.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Kenny exclaimed, raising his voice by a notch. “I don’t really know what your problem is, _seriously_. I was just heading to City Wok where we were supposed to meet and now you are bombarding me with questions! Dude, chill the fuck out.” 

_Chill the fuck out?_

If it weren’t Kenny, Kyle would have punched him in the jaw already. 

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Kyle exclaimed, balling his hands into fists. Kenny slid his out of his pockets and took a hesitant step forwards.

“Why are you angry at me, Kyle?” Kenny asked. “As alluring as that frown may be, I can’t stand it when you’re angry at me, babe.”

Kyle was a second away from kicking Kenny’s ass.

For his friend’s sake, Kyle fought against his inherited tendency towards violence. 

“Something happened,” Kyle said, trying to stay calm. “Whatever happened, we will deal with this. You said so too, remember?”

“Did I?” Kenny’s questioning look was like a stab wound to the heart. 

Kyle eyed Kenny warily, a thought forming in his mind and squeezing his soul tight. “That night,” Kyle explained, but Kenny’s puzzled look forced him to continue: “Do you remember that night, right?”

The vague question didn’t take Kenny by surprise as Kyle had hoped it would. Seemingly deep in thought, Kenny tapped a finger against the growing smile on his lips. 

“Was it on our first night together?” Kenny asked. 

Kyle’s heart dropped.

“I thought the fact that you forced me to dance would be forever embedded in your mind,” Kyle said, hoping that Kenny was just trying to piss him off. 

When a look of understanding flashed in Kenny’s eyes, Kyle heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe Kenny was just trying to cover his real emotions under layers of infuriating puns. Maybe—

Kenny’s next words froze him to the spot.

“Yes, of course. How could I forget when you’re such a good dancer? The song you chose was perfect for you,” Kenny said. “I can’t wait to cup your perfect ass again.”

The imperceptible step backwards from Kyle’s part went unnoticed. Kyle cast a quick look around and let out a nervous laugh when he realized they were completely alone.

“I think I need to go home,” Kyle said. “It’s getting late.” 

He took another step backwards, his eyes fixed on Kenny’s nonchalant pose, following the other’s hands as he slid them inside his parka’s pockets again. 

“Sure, dude,” Kenny said, not at all offended. “I should head home too.”

“Yes, you should.” 

With that said, Kyle whipped around and ran away as fast as he could.

He didn’t look back once.

________________

“Stan, I found Kenny, but I swear to God, he was acting so off!” Kyle exclaimed into the phone, pulling the curtain with a finger to take a glimpse of the driveway outside. The road in front of his house was clear, just a stray dog scampered playfully on the grass. “I swear it wasn’t him, Stan. I don’t know what happened, but Kenny-!”

“Dude,” Stan cut him off. Kyle knew him so well that he could just _picture_ him pinching the bridge of his nose as he said: “Calm down and let’s go back to square one. Who’s Kenny?”

Kyle groaned. “Not again.” 

“You’ve been talking about this guy for days now! Don’t I have a right to know who the fuck is he?” Stan asked in a hurt tone. “Is he from our class? I don’t remember a Kenny….. Oh, I see, is he the new guy?”

“We’ve known each other since we were in diapers,” Kyle said, annoyed. “How can you even forget him?”

“I’ve never met the guy!”

“…Stop fucking with me, Stan.” 

“Kyle,” Stan voiced his name as if he were talking to a baby, and Kyle ran a hand over his face in frustration. “You are stressed, I get it. Ike’s been missing and no one knows where he is. This is taking a toll on you, I get that. I really do. I’m as worried as you are.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Stan?” Kyle snarked. “Are you telling me I am just imagining Kenny? Is that it?”

“I’m not saying that,” Stan said, although his tone of voice said the opposite. “I just think you need some rest. You’re starting to sound like-!”

“Don’t. Say. It.” Kyle warned him.

“-your mom,” Stan finished for him.

Kyle hung up.

________________

Three days passed without any news from the police, as if Ike was but a snack crumb stuck to one of the countless files on missed children they already had on their hands. It soon became pretty obvious that all police research had come to a standstill. 

The Broflovski should have taken matters into their hands, but there was not a lot they could do. Every day, Gerald Broflovski searched Ike’s Facebook for some kind of clue but got nowhere. It had been difficult to crack the password, but the train of memes and YouTube videos they stumbled across so far had not repaid their efforts. 

Sheila Broflovski became more on edge by the minute.

Kyle waited.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, there was a loud banging noise coming from outside the Broflovskis household.

Neither Sheila nor Gerald were home, so Kyle went to see what was going on with his heart in his throat. 

The last thing he expected was to see a pissed off Cartman at his doorstep.

“Where is _he_?” Cartman demanded, pushing Kyle aside and barging into the house, uninvited.

“What the hell, fatass?” Kyle asked, curiously eyeing a blob of golden yolk sliding down his door. What the fuck. “Did you just egg the house? Who gave you the right?” 

His pitch-high cry was met with silence. 

Scrunching his nose in disgust, Kyle pointed towards the door: “Get out.”

Carman crossed his arms over his big chest in response, and Kyle slammed the door shut with an exasperated groan.

“Where is he, Kahl?” 

“ _Who_?”

“Butters!” Cartman exclaimed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “You filthy Jew. I know you are helping him out! He owns me money, you piece of shit. Butters!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, walking away from Kyle and making his way to the stairwell. “ _Butters_!”

“He’s not here, you pig fucker!” Kyle spat, grabbing Cartman by the shirt before he could climb up the stairs. 

“How much did he pay you?” Cartman asked, snapping his head towards him, lips puckered into a thin line. 

“Why should he pay me if he owes you money?” Kyle snarled back, vein throbbing in his forehead. The question slapped Cartman across the face, and he closed his mouth shut, regarding Kyle with a long, pondering look.

“Good point,” Cartman said, a little bit calmer. “It would be too low even for you.”

“Is that why you egged the house?”

“You deserve it and you know it.”

“Clean it up, you uncivilized swine!” 

“Yes, sure, whatever,” Cartman spat. “Now, where’s Butters?” 

Kyle reminded himself that murder was not always the answer.

Although…

“When did you see him last?” Kyle asked, taking a big breath and running a hand through his hair to calm himself down. It was impossible. Cartman’s presence just had that effect on him.

“Four days ago,” Cartman said. “He was heading to Stark’s Pond with Kenny when-!”

“Hold your horses!” Kyle exclaimed, grabbing Cartman by the collar of his shirt. Ignoring the annoyed look Cartman threw his way, Kyle continued: “You remember Kenny?”

“It’s impossible to forget the poor, Kyle,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes in distaste. “They lie at the root of our economic crisis.”

Kyle let him go and purposely wiped his hands against his trousers, pissing Cartman farther off. 

“Do you remember Kenny disappearing at all?” Kyle prodded, afraid to hear the answer but too curious to drop the matter yet.

“Kenny disappears all the time,” Cartman said. “Who cares about him anyway?” Narrowing his small eyes he gave Kyle a thorough look-over: “Unless you think he kidnapped Butters?”

“Why would he do that?” Kyle asked in disbelief. 

“I have no clue, Kahl,” Cartman said. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

“Fuck.” Kyle ran a hand through his hair and looked around the house, as if the answer to all of his questions was hidden between the couch’s cushions. All he could see, however, was Cartman. 

And Cartman was never the answer.

“Can you take me to where you saw Butters last?” Kyle asked, mentally screaming at himself for trusting Cartman –of all people. “Maybe someone remembers Butters walking by the pond.”

“Yes, whatever,” Cartman said, maybe a little bit too willingly. 

He seemed relieved that Kyle wanted to help him out, but Kyle couldn’t pinpoint the reason why until much later. Leaving the Broflovskis’ household behind, the two of them walked towards Stark’s Pond in awkward silence. 

Not that Cartman didn’t try to fill it with insults at both Butters and him, but Kyle could hardly call that a conversation.

When they finally arrived where Butters was seen last, Kyle finally realized why Cartman had seemed so edgy. 

The place stunk of sulfur. 

A light mist formed faint shadows over the pond, the very same that had engulfed the area around the Pits of Hell. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie, and Cartman unconsciously made a step closer to Kyle, using him as kind of a shield between himself and the pond.

“Here,” Cartman said, voice steady despite everything. He raised a finger and pointed to the other side of the lake. “They were heading that way, I’m sure of it.”

“There’s nothing interesting there,” Kyle reasoned. “Are you sure you were not mistaken?”

“It was Butters and Kenny, no doubt about it,” Cartman spat, affronted. “Who else would be singing about apples and shit while hopping around like little Red Riding Hood? Especially in a place like this!” he exclaimed pointing at the lake again.

As much as he hated it, Kyle had to admit Cartman was right.

Before Kyle could retort, however, a voice startled them both. Cartman moved closer to Kyle, but let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the orange parka running towards them. Kyle’s heart galloped in his chest, and he looked at Cartman warily, unsure of what to do.

What if it wasn’t Kenny?

“Kyle! Cartman!” Kenny exclaimed halting in front of them. Totally out of breath, he slumped over with his hands on his knees. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“What?” Cartman whispered, eyebrows furrowed. “Why the fuck shouldn’t we be okay?”

“Some bastard sent Stan a text. A picture, to be specific,” Kenny explained, straightening up. “He tried to call you multiple times, Kyle. Why didn’t you answer?” He looked so honestly relieved to be standing in front of him, that Kyle felt suddenly guilty for doubting him. 

At Kenny’s words, Kyle reached for his back pocket and took his phone out, checking for unanswered calls. He swiped his thumb over the screen and went through his messages. Nothing. 

“Have you seen Butters, Kenny?” Cartman asked instead, tearing Kenny’s attention off of Kyle. “I’ve been searching all over for him! I saw you with him four days ago and-!”

“Butters?” Kenny asked, blinking in confusion. The angry look that flashed across his face made even a guy like Cartman wince. “Someone texted Stan a picture of you two tied up in a fucking dungeon and you ask me about Butters?” he asked, voice almost hysterical. “Are you shitting me? Was it you, Cartman? Did you sent that picture? Do you think this is a joke?”

“Hey, calm down. We’re safe, see?” Kyle smiled, wrapping his hand around Kenny’s arm in reassurance. The effect was immediate: Kenny snapped his head towards him and pulled him into a hug.

“I thought you were done for,” Kenny whispered, face hidden in the crook of Kyle’s neck. “I thought-!”

“You’re so gay,” Cartman muttered.

Kyle shared a heated look with Cartman over Kenny’s shoulder. He couldn’t hold the stare for long, though, preoccupied as he was with Kenny clinging to him so tightly it hurt. 

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Kyle said, slightly pushing Kenny away. “Where’s Stan?”

“He’s searching for you in town,” Kenny said, quickly regaining composure. “We should go meet him.”

“Yes, let’s go,” Kyle said ready to walk back home, but Cartman stopped him with a flick of his hand. 

“Where’s Butters, Kenny?” Cartman asked. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me. You saw him last.”

“How the hell should I know?” Kenny rebuked. “He hasn’t talked to me in ages.”

“Liar!” Cartman said. “I saw you with him four days ago!”

“What?” Kenny shrieked. 

“Cartman, knock it off,” Kyle snapped. “This is not the time.”

“Why, Kahl?” Cartman asked, snapping his head towards him. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Kyle narrowed his eyes at him, and Cartman clicked his tongue, muttering vulgarities under his breath. 

“Let’s go back to Stan first,” Kenny said. “We’ll think about Butters later.” 

Yes, Kyle thought. Stan was probably running all over town looking for him. No wonder he asked Kenny for help. The police would have given him a pat on the head and told him they were going to take care of it before returning to their third donut. It would have taken longer to find Kyle. 

Wait a moment.

Stan didn’t remember Kenny. Why did Stan ask him for help if he swore he didn’t know him? Was this his idea of a joke? That was a Cartman thing to do, and Cartman seemed to remember Kenny fairly well. 

Shooting a glance at Kenny, Kyle couldn’t help but think something fishy was going on. Since that damned hole appeared, strange things were happening in their quiet mountain town –stranger than usual, at least. All the disappearances, Ike missing, Kenny missing and coming back, a strange picture of Cartman and him tied up… _wait a minute_. Why would Kenny go look for them around Stark’s Pond if they were supposed to be tied up in some kind of dungeon? Why a dungeon anyway? He could have said someone’s basement or a dark room or whatever. Dungeon was oddly very specific. 

Goddamnit. 

This was a trap.

“Should we go find Stan then?” Kenny asked. “He must be worried sick.”

Something was not right.

Something was definitely _not right_.

But he had to check first. The thought that this might not be Kenny was too much to bear. 

“Kenny,” Kyle said, “where’s Karen?” 

Cartman rolled his eyes upwards and shot his arms up in the air in frustration. Kenny too seemed taken aback by the question and he tilted his head to the side before he answered:

“She’s at home with Kevin, why?”

Nose scrunched, Kyle said: “So now you have a brother. You didn’t seem to remember your siblings when we last saw each other.”

Kenny burst out laughing.

“How could I ever forget my siblings?”

“Well, you did,” Kyle said, heart speeding up, “and then flirted with me an awful lot.”

Cartman’s bark of laughter annoyed Kyle greatly, but he couldn’t blame him. His words sounded ridiculous even to his own ears.

“Flirt with you?” Kenny asked, amused. “I would never flirt with you. Or with anyone, for that matter. You know very well that it makes me uncomfortable.”

Cartman shared a look with Kyle, and Kyle imperceptibly nodded. 

“Yes, you’re right. I’m… just messing with you,” Kyle said. He made a vague gesture with his hand and noticed Cartman nodding. “I should call Stan and tell him we’re okay.”

“There’s no need,” Kenny rushed to say, “we will find him at home.”

“Maybe it’s better if we call him first,” Cartman said, agreeing with Kyle for the first time in ages. He slowly backed away, earning a distrustful look from Kenny’s part. Rolling his eyes, Kyle wondered why Cartman couldn’t be inconspicuous about it. 

“Yes,” Kyle said, “what if he’s not home and we just run in circles looking for each other?”

Kenny stared at them for a long, silent moment, as if he was processing something in his head. The mist suddenly thickened and Kyle swore he could hear the strange rumbling noise again coming directly from Stark’s Pond. Sensing danger, Cartman fidgeted on the spot. 

Then, out of the blue, Kenny’s expression slightly darkened. 

“I was always jealous of your friendship,” he said, his eyes flickering between Cartman and Kyle. “I swear you are going to end each other sentences one day. You trust Cartman more than you trust me—!” 

“ _AAAH!_ ”

Cartman’s sudden warrior cry made Kyle jump back in shock. As soon as his fist found Kenny’s nose, Cartman whirled around and started running in the opposite direction.

“RUN, KAHL! RUN, YOU STUPID JEW!”

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice.

Unfortunately for him, Cartman’s stamina was not as high as the fatass wanted it to be. They hadn’t even reached the first houses that Cartman stopped, panting heavily. Kyle grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him to the closest trashcan, pulling him down on the asphalt next to him. He shot a look towards Stark’s Pond, but Kenny was nowhere to be seen.

He couldn’t be far, though. 

“We should go to Stan. Now!” Kyle hissed. 

“Do you want to kill me, Kyle?” Cartman angrily asked back, gasping for air. He clutched the front of his chest and tried to regain his breath. “What the hell!” he exclaimed. “That was not Kenny! We should go to Stan, right now!”

“You piece of shit,” Kyle snapped. “That’s what I said.”

“Let’s go, don’t slack,” Cartman ordered and glancing over the trashcan he stood up again. After making sure Kenny was not anywhere near, the two started running towards Stan’s house again. 

________________

“What?” Stan asked, taken aback. “Again with this Kenny guy?”

“Stan, focus!” Cartman exclaimed. “Something wanted to kill us out there and you got stuck in the details!” 

“We don’t even know if Kenny wanted to kill us!” Kyle retorted.

“Kenny is a killer?” Stan put a hand over his mouth and stared at Kyle. “Your new friend is a fucking killer?”

“What do you think he was going to do, Kyle?” Cartman yelled at him, putting his hands on his waist. “Invite us to a tea party? Of course he wanted to kill us! Like he did Butters!”

“He killed Butters?!” Stan exclaimed. 

“Focus, Stan!” 

“No one killed anyone!” Kyle shouted. “We don’t even know where Butters is! He could be at home, grounded for something-!”

“Do you think I didn’t check already?” Cartman cut him off. 

“What happened to Butters?” Stan asked, voice crackly. 

“The same thing that would have happened to us if I hadn’t heroically saved the day and unmasked this guy!” Cartman exclaimed haughtily. 

“Goddamnit, Cartman!” Kyle rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You shat your pants!”

“Shut up, fucker,” Cartman said, “if you haven’t been so set on rubbing yourself all over him, we would have immediately realized it was not Kenny!”

“I was not-!” Kyle spat, blushing violently.

“I saved your life, Kyle!” 

“You rubbed yourself all over a killer?” Stan asked. “Dude, gross.”

“Focus, Stan!” Kyle exclaimed. “Kenny is not a killer. No one is a killer. We just know this guy pretends to be Kenny and probably saw Butters last. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Did he really just say that?” Cartman asked looking at Stan, annoyed. 

“Cartman’s right,” Stan said. “It was pretty clear he wanted to kill you both.”

“ _Thank you_!” Cartman exclaimed. “Butter’s dead. We have to take care of ourselves now!” 

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle muttered. “Butters in not dead. We need to find this guy right now and force him to tell us where the real Kenny is instead—”

“Who the fuck is Kenny?” 

“Hell no, Kahl!” Cartman exclaimed. “You want to get yourself killed, be my guest, but don’t drag me into this.”

“Kenny might be in danger!” Kyle exclaimed.

“Kenny is fucking a whore right now and he’s having a good time at it, that’s what I think,” Cartman said, nose in the air. “He’ll show up sooner or later.”

“You are just scared to take on Kenny! I mean, this fake Kenny!”

“I’m not going to take on a serial killer, Kyle,” Stan said. 

“Stan!” 

“Oh, screw you, guys!” Cartman exclaimed, turning on his heels. “I’m sick and tired of this. I’m going home.”

Kyle groaned loudly and turned his back to both. 

Stan shook his head, flinching when Cartman slammed the door violently behind him. 

________________

Another two days passed without any news from either Ike or his friends.

Kyle knew he should go to the McCormicks’ house and assess the situation, but he was afraid to come face to face with Kenny –or whoever that was. The idea that there was someone out there with _Kenny’s_ face talking to _Kenny’s_ siblings as if nothing was the matter made Kyle uneasy.

He should warn Karen and Kevin about this.

But at the same time he wondered if he wasn’t going to put them in danger by telling them the truth.

They would probably think he lost his fucking mind, anyway.

Maybe Kyle was just a pussy. 

“Fuck you, I’m not,” Kyle said to no one in particular as he dragged two garbage bags along the driveway to the trashcan. He huffed and panted, insulting his father under his breath, when, suddenly, a movement caught his attention.

Kyle dropped the garbage bags and whirled around, ready to punch the offender on the jaw, when he came face to face with Kenny’s terrified expression.

“Kyle?” Kenny asked, eyes glazed over. There was a trail of blood dripping down his chin, and Kyle fought against the urge to move towards him and cup his face to assess the injury.

Unaware of Kyle’s internal struggle, Kenny made a tentative step forwards and fell right into Kyle’s arms. Instinctively, Kyle caught him.

“Kyle,” Kenny said again, throwing a glance behind his back. 

Kyle looked down at him in disgust. He had been fooled twice already and this time Kyle was not afraid to use torture to get some information out of this bad copy of his friend. He tried to shove him away, but Kenny’s hold on him was stronger.

“Kyle,” Kenny said in a panicked whisper. “I don’t know how long I have to live this time, but you have to listen to me! You’re smart. I trust you.”

“Who are you?” Kyle demanded. “Where’s Kenny?”

“I’m Kenny!” Kenny exclaimed and almost fell on his knees when Kyle violently pushed him away. “Listen to me, Ky. Please. You are in danger. Everyone is in danger!” 

“Why should I trust you?” Kyle asked, taking a step away from him to put as much distance as possible between the two of them. 

Suddenly, Kenny let out a pained moan and curled up into himself, as if someone had just stabbed him in the stomach. 

Kyle’s determination wavered at the sight. 

“Ky,” Kenny stated. “Don’t trust the Newcomers.”

_Crack!_

Drops of blood stained Kyle’s face and shirt, and Kyle stared at the split open head at his feet with eyes wide open in shock. His hands started shaking, and his mouth formed a small ‘o’ as he raised his gaze towards Kenny’s killer.

The boy in front of him grinned widely and waved his blood stained baseball bat at him. 

“ _Ike_?”

“Hey, bro!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter author: Starsmadeinheaven
> 
> Thank you for reading! This project is so fun, it was a honor to be part of this team of awesome writers!! <3<3<3


	5. Chapter 5

Kyle knew his brother.

He knew Ike’s sarcastic humor and that stupid smug grin he’d always get when he thought he was right. Knew how he looked, and how he carried himself and...he knew he had gone missing a few days ago. He had vanished without a trace, which was more than worrying and completely unusual.

And now...here he was.

But for all that there was he knew, there was suddenly _doubt_.

Kenny, the real Kenny, _his_ Kenny, was sprawled out on the ground between them, Dead. Blood oozing from where his skill had been caved in from a bat that’d had way too much force behind it. Too much intent.

Kenny was _dead_. Murdered by-

His thoughts cut off as a certain numbness takes over him. An emptiness that replaced all heartache and panic and told him to clear his head. To put everything behind him until he had a chance to dwell on it, and to take the time to process everything at face level and _think_.

Still, he can’t seem to get his eyes to leave Kenny’s lifeless body.

He had been running from something, blood covered as if he had been _hunted_ like a wild animal. He’d run up to him breathless. Exhausted. Panicked. In his arms for only a fraction of a second before-

Kyle’s gaze slowly rises to meet Ike’s.

Same dark hair. Same eyes. Same height and body. But there was a wooden baseball bat resting easily in his hands, one that dripped with fresh blood yet was darkened with older stains. The deep red engraved into its very grooves, saturated so deeply that it’d never be able to return to its normal coloring. And in Ike’s expression something seems _off_. Indescribably so. A little too calm maybe? Or a little _too_ friendly?

And suddenly he finds Kenny’s last words resounding through his head like an unending mantra. Like a _warning_.

_Don’t trust the Newcomers._

Ike takes a step forward, and Kyle immediately takes a step back.

No, no that _thing_ wasn’t Ike.

The fake Ike inspects him, looking as if he was trying to understand why Kyle would want to maintain distance between them. Then, he _smiles_. “What’s the matter, bro? Upset I killed your boyfriend?” His smile widens and he gives his bat an easy twirl. “Don’t worry, I’ve been having a problem with him coming back.”

“What are you?” Kyle asks, doing his best to keep his tone firm. “Where’s my brother?”

The fake Ike sighs, almost as if he’s disappointed. “You were always too smart, Kyle,” He chides, glancing down at Kenny’s dead body and giving it a light kick, immediately causing Kyle’s ager to flare up and his fists to clench. The thing wearing his brother’s face looks back up at him and gives him an amused smirk, as if aware of the reaction he’d drawn out. “Kenny, he was smart too,” he continues, tone still just as chipper. “But we can fix that. Make it so you won’t think a single thing is wrong. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

The last of his words are paired with a smile that sends a chill straight down Kyle’s spine. A much too wide grin that serves as a prelude to the sudden bottomless darkness emanating from him. A familiar darkness that grasps and claws at the ground as if it’s a living entity, searching and consuming all that it touches. At its edges an equally familiar mist lingers, the very same he’d seen at the pit of hell and Stark’s Pond now swirling around the thing wearing his brother’s face.

Kyle slowly backs away.

And then he’s running.

Where to? He has no idea, just allows his feet to lead him to wherever they go, his only goal being to escape. But if the mist or the fake Ike follow they show no sign of it. That or...they’re in no hurry too. As if his fleeing doesn’t really matter, as if they _knew_ they'd find him eventually and-

He quickly banishes that line of thinking, steps slowing to a stop and lungs heaving with effort.

In front of him sits his house, that apparently being where his instincts had brought him. Yet, even as he straightens and once again starts forward, he finds himself hesitating. The fake Ike would probably know he would come back here, and then he’d be _trapped_ with that thing. In hindsight, coming here was probably a stupid thing to do, but then again where could he even go? Kenny was dead, and could he even trust Stan anymore? Could he trust Cartman? _Anyone_?

Fake Ike had been obvious, he knew his brother and for as much of a dick he was, he knew he didn’t have a murderous bone in his body. But what about the people he didn’t know as well? Would he have even been suspicious of Ike in the first place if he hadn’t just murdered someone before his eyes? How the fuck was he even supposed to know what a _Newcomer_ was? Everyone had been acting weird lately, but then again there was a literal fucking pit to hell that had opened up behind a U-Haul so that was probably to be expected.

But then what did that leave him with?

Reaching up, Kyle rubs at his temple as he feels the telltale signs of a migraine coming on.

What a fucking mess.

With a sigh, he walks past the front door and settles in on the ground at the side of his house. He looks out across the expanse of snow and the railroad tracks that divided his and Kenny’s houses before throwing back his head and resting it against his house’s exterior with another deep sigh.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. It doesn’t feel like long, but it must be because by the time he hears a familiar call of his name the sky is an entirely different shade than it had been before he’d started sitting there. A bit weird considering he was never one to zone out or sit still for so long, but he supposes it _had_ been one hell of a day.

“Kyle!”

Kyle immediately looks for the source of the voice, a part of him immediately bracing himself for another fake, but instead his breath catches.

Kenny makes his way over to meet him with his stupidly warm lopsided smile lighting up his face, one that’s as familiar as the blue of the sky and the green of the grass and that never once failed to make his heart skip a beat.

Kyle’s guard instantly falls. There was no doubting it. He’d know the real Kenny anywhere, and he suddenly doesn’t know how he could have mistaken those fakes for the real one. Can’t help but feel guilty for the doubt he’d shown him-

Wait, when was the last time he’d seen the real Kenny? It had been with Ike right? The fake Ike with the bat.

...Why’d he have a bat again?

Kyle frowns but then his arms are suddenly filled with an orange parka wearing boy and all other thoughts are immediately forgotten. He releases a startled breath as Kenny tightly wraps his arms around him, but a moment later he returns the hug, albeit a bit more gently.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Kenny says, voice muffled from where he had his face pressed into Kyle’s neck. “I was worried about you.”

His words as well as the action is familiar of a moment not long passed but with a much different version of Kenny. But although this was most definitely his Kenny, he can’t help but be a bit shaken by his behavior. Sure he’d just run from the situation with the horrifying blood-covered fake Ike, but there was no way Kenny could have known that. And while Kenny was usually pretty touchy and had hugged him on multiple occasions, this seemed far more serious.

More desperate. Clinging to him as if he was his lifeline, different than the weak and exhausted way he’d fallen into his arms...wait when and why had he done that? It probably wasn’t important, a moment from a while ago maybe.

“...Why?” Kyle asks tentatively, although he still trusts the familiar flutter of his heart enough to keep Kenny close to him, even with his strange behavior. But Kenny pulls away then anyway, stiffening and then slowly retreating from his arms enough to meet Kyle’s eyes with something indescribable resting in his gaze. Then inquiry fades into something a little crestfallen. As if he was... _disappointed_?

...Weird.

But before Kyle can think to question him, Kenny gives a slight shake of his head and quietly tells him, “Things are really screwed up, Ky.”

Kyle can’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Kenny nods and moves to settle against the wall beside him. He’s quiet for a moment before he hesitantly asks, “How much to you, uh know?”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asks, having an inkling of what he meant but still finding the question pretty vague. Kenny shrugs.

“About everything that’s going on. I wanna know what’s happened to you so far.”

So, Kyle tells him. Explains all the weird shit that had been happening ever since that damn pit to hell appeared behind the U-Haul. About Ike and Butters going missing, Stan’s weird memory problems. Tells him about the weird fake Kenny’s he’d come across, and the still concerning mention of himself and Butters being trapped in a dungeon. And then finally, he tells him about Ike with the bloody baseball bat and the weird mist circling him that he’d run from.

Kenny, to his credit, listens intently throughout the entire thing, nodding occasionally yet saying nothing. It’s only when Kyle finishes that he looks down with something clearly pensive in his expression. Brows knitted and a small frown in place, not laughing or even passing a smarmy comment in an attempt to calm him down and get him to relax, as Kyle had expected him to do.

“Kenny,” Kyle says quietly when several moments pass between them in silence. “You know something don’t you?”

“I...not as much as you’re probably thinking,” Kenny slowly admits after a moment. “Just that things are really really fucked up right now. The portal to hell is getting bigger and with it those _things_ are showing up and trying to take over people’s lives while the real people are either succumbing to some weird-ass amnesia or just fucking vanishing.” He gives a sharp laugh. “Or wait, with all this weird supernatural shit I also figured that it could be time itself they’re fucking with and we’re just _all_ going crazy, wouldn’t that be a kicker?”

Kyle does his best to take it all in. It all sounded insane, but it also matched up to everything he’d seen and experienced so far. Then again maybe they all _were_ just going crazy. Great.

“You said _amnesia_?” he settles on asking, and Kenny nods.

“You ever wonder why the Newcomers seem to have some memories and not others? It’s because _that’s_ what they’re messing with. Taking, studying them, _learning_.” His nose crinkles in disgust. “It’s creepy as shit. Can you imagine if they perfect it? If these Newcomers have all our memories too?”

A perfect clone with all of their thoughts and memories?

“...They’d be just like us,” Kyle slowly voices.

“Maybe there’d be a point where not even we would be able to tell the difference,” Kenny adds grimly. “Not really knowing if we’re even real, or just another fake.”

Kyle shivers.

“But why though? Why is this happening?”

“Want my guess?” Kenny rhetorically asks with a scoff and a shake of his head. “Well Kyle, welcome to the fucking apocalypse.”

He allows himself to digest that.

The apocalypse.

There were stories of the apocalypse. Things once considered fantasy that were just suddenly a little too real. Kyle wants to argue, wants to tell Kenny that he was being ridiculous. They were in South Park after all and weird shit happened all the time.

Yet as much as he might want to, he finds that he can’t dispute it. There was a literal fucking hell pit in town, people were vanishing, and he’d seen what might very well have been a demon with his brother’s face smile at him as darkness and mist rose from the ground.

They were all in some serious shit.

The only question now was: how could they _stop_ it? Because these demons, Newcomers, or whatever the hell they were had another thing coming if they thought he was just going to lay down and die.

_In your dreams, assholes._

Kyle rises to his feet, tired of sitting and wanting to punch one of these Newcomer bastards in the damn face. He turns to hold a hand out to Kenny, and the blond looks up at him in surprise.

“You trust me then?” Kenny asks, as if that little fact was somehow still up for debate. “I did tell you to look out for those Newcomer things, didn’t I?” He smirks. “I could always stab you in the back you know?”

“I think I’ll take my chances,” Kyle says, not quite able to suppress his smile despite the circumstances. Kenny takes his hand then and Kyle pulls him to his feet. Yet when a moment passes and Kenny still doesn’t release his grip, Kyle eyes their connected hands with a degree of confusion.

“Oh shit sorry,” Kenny squeaks, noticing Kyle’s puzzlement. “It was just...never mind. It’s been a long day.” He gives him a small slightly nervous smile; however, as Kenny goes to retract his hand Kyle only tightens his grip.

“It’s been a fucking long _week_ ,” he agrees, giving Kenny’s hand a squeeze.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Kenny says, smile softening. He then follows after Kyle as he begins leading them away from his house, remaining silent for a few moments before he asks, “So...where are we going exactly?”

“I…” Kyle trails off and frowns, steps coming to a halt. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “But I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

Kenny nods in understanding. “Well...I think I actually might have an idea where we can start. Come on.”

And with that, Kenny takes the lead and Kyle follows after him silently. He’d ask where they were going but in a strange turn of events he finds he doesn’t really care. He was just happy to be doing _something_ , and if Kenny had an idea of where to start then he’d happily go with him. Any idea was a good one at this point, and he trusted Kenny’s judgment.

So, instead of speaking Kyle runs through everything he’d learned and suspected through his head once again. It was one hell of complicated mess, but where there was a problem there was a solution. The problem was...well there really _wasn’t_ a single problem. There was a lot of little issues that may or may not be true or anything like the way that they seemed.

Hence the complicated mess part.

Kyle’s frown deepens, as he thinks over what Kenny had theorized about the missing memories.

“Hey, Kenny?”

“Yeah?”

“If people’s memories are getting messed with, how is it that my memory isn’t affected?”

Kenny’s silent for a few beats, as if unsure of his answer.

“Yeah…” He says eventually, attempting a smile but it falls a bit short. “Weird, right?”

But Kyle doesn’t miss the way he glances down at their still connected hands, or how his gaze lingers there just a moment too long. There was something that he wasn’t telling him, but before he thinks to ask, Kyle’s suddenly distracted by the realization of exactly where Kenny had led him.

He’d been so stuck inside his own head he hadn’t even noticed, yet sure enough the U-Store-It sign sat in bold letters directly overhead as they skirted past it and under the police tape that surrounded the back. Yeah as if police tape was going to protect them from a consistently growing pit to the fucking underworld, good job guys.

“Kenny...why are we here?” he finally asks as the hell-pit comes into view in all its magmic red and misty shadowed glory.

Kenny stops then, gaze lowering to the swirling shadows stretching to lap at their feet as if sniffing them out. One of them starts to curl up Kenny’s leg before it quickly retreats almost like it had been repelled by something, and in the next moment Kyle watches as it dissolves back into a shadowy mist.

“Kenny?” Kyle tries again.

But Kenny once again doesn’t answer. Instead he looks from the shadows to the pit to hell and some sort of dark resolve crosses his features. As determined as it is grim.

Kenny lets go of his hand.

“Ky,” he voices, still without looking at him. “I need you to go back to Stan and Cartman. The last I saw they were still themselves, you’ll be safer together.”

And that’s all he says before he begins making his way towards the hell pit.

“Kenny, what are you talking about?” Kyle asks, stubbornly keeping pace with him. “What about you?”

“There’s something that I have to do here,” he says in way of explanation. But he doesn’t stop and Kyle feels a bit like grabbing him and shaking some sense into him. What was going on with him, what the hell was even he doing?

“Alright can you stop being fucking cryptic and just give me a straight answer?” Kyle snaps, and thankfully that seems to finally do it, Kenny at last halting his apparent death march. Granted they were both way too close to the pit at this point, close enough that Kyle could feel its harsh heat dusting across his skin and could practically feel the darkness and shadows slithering across his ankles since they were in such a large abundance. Yet something was keeping them from rising, a strange detail but he had more pressing issues at the moment.

“Kyle, please,” Kenny says softly, finally turning to look at him. “Just _go_. Let me do this.” His eyes then dart towards the pit and Kyle stiffens. Not fully understanding what Kenny was getting at, but understanding _enough_.

“No.” Kyle grabs his arm, stopping Kenny as he attempts to take another step towards the hell pit. “I swear I will _carry_ your ass back to my place if that’s what it takes.”

“I kind of always wanted you to carry me,” Kenny admits with a sad little smile, none of his normal smarm present. “But we’ll have to wait for another time, okay?”

“Kenny, I swear to god-“

Kenny places his free hand on his arm, successfully halting Kyle’s words. “Kyle don’t. Please, just trust me on this? It...wouldn’t be my first time.”

That last part causes Kyle to pause and look at him. To really _look_ at him.

His breath catches and his heart thrums to a stuttered beat.

He is a boy framed by hell itself.

An unearthly being in an orange parka.

And suddenly Kyle remembers _everything_.

A rush of feeling and scenes that had been buried, erased, or tampered with all flickering throughout his mind.

But most pertinent to the scene at hand are the recollection of his dreams. Vivid dreams of a blond boy with beautiful white wings. An angel with familiar blue eyes that regarded him almost nervously. As if he would reject him. As if he ever could.

_This is who I am, Ky._

Just how many times had he forgotten? Could it all be part of that amnesia caused by the Newcomers or was there another factor? Was this the first time or...

 _No_ , it didn’t matter. None of that mattered, not anymore. He wouldn’t lose him. Not again.

Not when he just realized that he-

“Kenny, I-“

As if sensing his torment and understanding exactly what it meant, Kenny suddenly moves forward in a quick and almost desperate motion. He throws his arms around him and Kyle does the same, clutching him as closely to him as possible.

Then, he’s kissing him.

Achingly familiar in every sense. Natural on every level, lips fitting together in an easy and practiced motion, warmth and feeling bringing memories once lost directly to the surface. He tastes of something unearthly; poignant, addicting, and wholly _him_. Kyle can’t help but shiver and press himself closer as he feels an overwhelming rightness, as if a missing part of himself had once again been found.

“It’s okay,” Kenny breathes against his lips as they part. Stepping out of his embrace, his lips quirk into a sad little smile. “We’ll just try again next time.”

And then Kyle is suddenly lunging forward, lungs choking on a soundless scream as Kenny takes a single step backward.

But Kyle’s arms only grasp air as he watches Kenny fall straight into the pit, a lone white feather floating to the ground where he’d once stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by panaceaa  
> hehe<3


	6. Chapter 6

When Kyle thought about it later, he wasn’t sure why he did it. Heat of the moment. Fight or flight. Sheer idiocy. All of the above.

Either way, when Kenny took that free fall into the depths of Hell and he grasped only air trying to save him, time seemed to stop. In the split second that seemed to last for an eternity, while Kyle watched him fall – the boy he’d grown up with, the boy he’d just _kissed_ , the boy – his angel – that he’d kissed before and forgotten time and time again – he made an important decision. Like hell was he going to stand idly by. Kenny could be in mortal danger. He’d just jumped into the depths of Hell for fucks sake. Who even did that? 

Kenny did. Kenny and his goddamn stupid hero complex. 

That boy would be the death of him. Literally, quite possibly. 

Ignoring that single feather, the one that should have made him pause for thought and reconsider the immensely terrible idea that hadn’t even fully formed in his head, Kyle took a deep breath and, as time seemed to catch up on him, let himself fall into the unknown. 

 

Darkness. Endless and unapologetic, eating away at everything so that he couldn’t see, could hardly even breathe as he frantically tried to get his bearings when he came to. 

What had happened? Why did he feel like he’d fallen from a plane and splattered across the road? Why couldn’t he see? Where the hell was –

Oh. _Oh._ Yes, okay, that had happened. 

“Why’d you follow me, you idiot?”

Although he couldn’t see him, he would know that voice anywhere. _Kenny._

Okay, so they weren’t dead. That was a good start. Then again, this was Hell (probably) so maybe they _were_ dead? Maybe the fall had killed them and now they were trapped for an eternity in the realm of Satan. Oh God, if he had jumped into the pits of Hell without thinking things through and had died then his mom was going to _kill_ him. 

Kyle didn’t answer his question. He didn’t really think Kenny deserved an answer. This was all his fault, after all. “What the hell were _you_ thinking?!”

The gloom was thinning out, his eyes fighting to adjust to it as fast as possible, aware of the danger he was potentially in. If Kyle squinted he could work out the outline of the familiar orange parka. Kenny appeared to be sitting on some kind of giant rock, arms folded across his chest. He couldn’t see his expression, but Kyle imagined him to be frowning. Kenny had no right to frown; if anyone deserved to be angry right now it was Kyle. 

Although – 

He recalled the memories that had returned to him like a punch to the gut. He remembered the angel with blue eyes, the times they had met one another in secret and the countless deaths that had been erased and yet he’d somehow stumbled across again. Memories that shouldn’t exist, memories his brain was fighting like an unknown parasite. They fluctuated in his head, there one minute, gone the next. Always hazy, always just on the brink of existence. 

He fought to keep them. He would keep fighting forever if need be. 

And then, like a slap to the face, he realised what an idiot he was:

Kenny couldn’t die. When Kenny had jumped into the pits of Hell, he’d known with certainty that it wouldn’t be the end of his story. For him it was just a plot twist, perhaps taking him off course but, ultimately, leading him to where he needed to be. When Kyle had followed, he’d had no such knowledge. Kyle had literally jumped into Hell to save a boy who didn’t need saving. He’d probably doomed himself in the process. 

Typical, really. 

When was he ever going to stop and think things through before acting so rashly? 

Kenny slipped off his rock and walked over, his expression softening as if he could read Kyle’s thought process. 

“ _I_ had a plan,” Kenny said softly. “Unlike _someone_ who always acts in the heat of the moment and makes rash decisions. Was kissing me so good you had to follow me into Hell for more?” He winked playfully, trying to make light of the situation. Kyle didn’t fail to notice the glint in his eyes though, the one that suggested his lighthearted tone was a front masking his worry. 

“Well, it _was_ a good kiss,” Kyle said, just about keeping his voice under control. A moment later, though, he couldn’t help it. He asked, his voice little more than a whisper, “Am I dead?”

Kenny took Kyle’s hands in his own. “Of course you’re not,” he said, though Kyle didn’t miss the slight hesitance in his tone, as if he wasn’t as sure as he was pretending to be. “Don’t worry, Kyle. We’ll figure this out and get everyone home. Including you.” 

How was it this angel was so calm faced with the pits of Hell? Around them the darkness seemed to be melting away, replaced by an orange hue. Why did Hell have to be the colour of Kenny? And it was hot, too (not that the two things were related, though there was no denying that Kenny was pretty damn attractive…). Kyle couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed before, but now he couldn’t ignore the sweat dripping down his face, probably leaving him red faced and about as attractive as a pig. He shrugged out of his jacket, surprised when Kenny didn’t follow suit. Was he not burning up or did angels just not feel the heat? 

Out of his jacket, and with a quick swipe at his dripping forehand, he turned to his parka wearing angel with a frown, Kenny’s last words finally hitting him. “Get _everyone_ home?” he asked. “Do you think all the missing people are in Hell?!” 

Amongst the missing was Butters and Ike. If his little brother was somewhere down in this doomed place there would be hell to pay. Kyle would stop at nothing to find him and make whichever son-of-a-bitch dragged him down here suffer. Slowly. If Cartman had ever been good for anything, it was teaching Kyle horrible ways to extract revenge. It would certainly be a weird thing to thank the fatass for and Kyle wasn’t sure he wanted to give him the satisfaction. 

“It’s just a theory,” Kenny said. “The Newcomers, they come from down here, that much I am sure of.”

“What exactly are they?”

“Our worst nightmares.” He didn’t elaborate but Kyle wasn’t sure he needed him to. The Newcomers really were the terrifying creatures of nightmares. If stealing people’s identities wasn’t bad enough, to find out that they were potentially throwing innocent people down into Hell… 

Kyle balled his fists. The action was not missed by Kenny. He reached out again, taking Kyle into his arms.

“It’s okay, Ky,” he said softly. “Ike will be fine. We’ll find him.”

“And what if we don’t?”

“We will.” Kenny wouldn’t humour an alternative. 

Kyle clung on to him, not caring that it was too hot to be in such proximity with another being. His rash action may have brought him closer to his brother, but the situation still stunk. The worst of it being that it was entirely his own fault. If he could never return home then his mother had lost not one, but two children to the depths of Hell, a place that Kyle liked to believe he didn’t belong. Sure, he’d done terrible, irredeemable things in his time (the worst being indirectly responsible for nuking Canada) but did those few mistakes warrant him a place in Hell? He hoped not; he certainly tried to be the best person he could be. 

Still, he found himself clinging to Kenny a little tighter, finding comfort in their bodies being pressed together. He hoped Kenny’s holding him meant that he definitely felt the same, that he wasn’t regretting their heat of the moment kiss. That kiss, for Kyle, had been everything. Even now, with Ike’s life in danger and after potentially making the worst decision of his life and ending up in Hell, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Did that make him awful? 

What _did_ make him awful was the fact that he wanted to kiss the blond again, right now. 

But they’d kissed before, right? Those memories he was fighting to keep, they gave him a history with Kenny that was doomed to be forgotten. 

_Not on my watch._ Whatever was causing his amnesia, be it the Newcomers or something else entirely, he would fight it. He would never stop fighting it. Kenny and himself, they were meant for so much more - 

Kyle pulled away abruptly. If they made it out of this screwed up situation, if they managed to stop the bad guys and close the gates to Hell then, and only then –

“Stop thinking so much,” Kenny said, playfully flicking Kyle’s nose. “You’ll give yourself a migraine.” And, before Kyle could protest (no! They had to focus on the task ahead!) he leaned in and brushed his lips briefly against Kyle’s. The kiss was short but sweet and the butterflies Kyle didn’t realise had taken up residency in his stomach took flight, flapping around frantically until he almost wanted to hurl. He’d never understood why Stan used to throw up whenever Wendy talked to him. 

Oh boy, did he get it now. 

Face probably flushing scarlet, Kyle pulled away and started to walk. He didn’t have a damn clue where he was going but he couldn’t face Kenny right now.

When he heard the blond chuckle and start to follow him, he began to doubt whether Kenny was an angel at all. Perhaps he was actually an imp, sent to tempt him into darkness. 

If that were the case, Kyle was already doomed. 

His fast paced march came to an abrupt halt as he stepped out of the cavern they had apparently been in.

Kyle had never put a lot of thought into what Hell looked like. If someone were to ask him, he’d have wagered a lot of lava and maybe some doomed souls, chained to one another for all eternity. 

Hell was all of that and a whole lot more. The fire danced around crevices and jutting rocks but, between the lava pits, there was a lushes green park and rows upon rows of quaint houses where the residents of Hell lived in apparent comfort. From their spot above it all, Kyle and Kenny had a breathtaking view of it all. 

“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Kenny said.

“I never imagined…” Kyle didn’t know how to finish his sentence. He’d thought Hell would be a despicable place, a place where Ike would be frightened and alone and in desperate need of saving ASAP. 

Instead, this was a community, and a very civilised one by the looks of it. Sure, he was pretty certain if he squinted he could spot some skeletons sitting in the park and, was that a guy impaled on a jutting rock?!

Overall, though, it was not what he’d imagined. 

“I thought Hell was meant to be an eternal torture?” 

“Nah,” Kenny said, shrugging. “I mean, there is a compulsory lottery for spending a few weeks impaled or chained up for the aesthetics but, generally, it’s an alright place. Most times I prefer it to Heaven; that place is overcrowded with Mormons and they can get to be a bit too much sometimes.”

Kyle stared at the blond in disbelief. 

“You’ve met Satan,” Kenny pointed out, “he’s a decent guy, right?” 

“True,” Kyle admitted. “But then… Why is the pits of Hell opening behind the U-Store-It such a bad thing? And where did the Newcomers come from?”

“I didn’t say all of Hell is good, dude. The worst of the worst are sent here, remember? And Satan’s one guy. He might be nice but there’s trillions of people here. He can’t keep tabs on all of them.” Kenny fell silent for a moment, staring out into the distance. He frowned. “I’m not sure there’s not something else going on, too,” he admitted finally. “Do you remember that alternate universe? From when we were kids? Where everything was opposite?”

“You think that’s connected to this?”

“I dunno, dude. Maybe, or maybe something similar? Then again, it could just be a few residents of Hell causing havoc. Either way, I plan to stop them.”

“Well, you’re not doing it alone,” Kyle said. “I became involved as soon as Ike got dragged into this mess.”

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, dude,” Kenny complained, but he was smiling fondly, like he wouldn’t want Kyle any other way. “You better not get yourself killed.”

“At least I’m in the right place for it,” Kyle joked weakly. “And you’d be able to visit me.”

Kenny frowned again, his eyebrows drawing together. “So you really do remember?”

“It’s a struggle,” Kyle admitted. “Like, the memories came back in blaring technicolour at first but now I’m fighting to keep them.”

“I guess that makes sense. My curse has always insisted I bear it alone. Nobody has ever remembered before.” 

Kyle couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Kenny to carry this burden alone for so long. It must have been unbearable to die again and again and never have anyone remember, nor believe him when he tried to confine in them. And, now that Kyle thought about it, Kenny _had_ tried to confine in them before. He’d begged them to remember. He’d pleaded for them to believe him. 

Man, did Kyle feel like absolute shit right now. 

Then there was them. Kyle and Kenny. The angel and his charge and their not so platonic feelings that Kyle could never remember afterwards. 

Damn, okay, now he _really_ felt like crap. 

“Kenny, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Kenny shrugged. “Besides, I got used to this shitty existence years ago. It’s why I do Mysterion. I might as well do something good with the crappy hand I’ve been dealt.” 

“But you tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I never listened.”

“And I probably wouldn’t have believed you if our situation was reversed,” he said. “It’s a lot to take in. I’m immortal. It’s the stuff of movies.”

“Our whole lives are the stuff of movies.” Kyle laughed bitterly. “I don’t think anyone else our age has had to deal with half the shit we have. We’re literally in Hell right now, dude.”

Their eyes locked. For a moment there was silence and then that moment was broken by their laughter, loud and wild, more a coping mechanism than finding actual humour in their situation. 

When that moment passed, the humour dissolved from their eyes and their gazes shifted back to the vast fire realm beneath them. Reality kicked in, almost knocking their teeth out with the force of its blow. 

What on earth were they getting themselves into? And how the hell were they supposed to figure out what to do next? 

If nothing else was certain, Kyle knew one thing:

They’d do it together. 

Together, they were going to make the Newcomers wish they’d never been born. 

_Watch out, assholes, we’re coming for you…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by ProdigyBlood :DD I love this project! I hope you enjoy my addition <3 Chapter beta’d by LWTIS (Thank you!! ^.^)


	7. Chapter 7

Kenny supposed it was just his luck.

He finally got his wish of someone remembering, of someone realizing what has been happening to him all these years. Yet, if there was ever a set of circumstances where he found himself wishing for the opposite, it was now.

Because remembering now put Kyle in danger.

Of course, Kenny was nothing but touched that Kyle, in all his rashness, decided to follow him down here. That nothing-will-stand-in-his-way attitude was easily one of the things Kenny adored most about the red-head.

But it was equally one of Kyle’s more worrisome qualities, since it had the tendency to get him into trouble. _‘Like now…’_

What Kenny wouldn't give to get Kyle out of here, and to get some answers. He could care less about what happened to himself in the process; being immortal allowed him that weird privilege. But there were just so many unknowns, so many ways this messed up situation could turn worse. Even so, Kenny would be damned if he let anything happen to Kyle. His own uncertainty and worries aside, he meant what he said: he would find a way to get them and everyone missing back home. He was determined.

Kenny turned to face Kyle. He could tell the smile he received was meant to cover up the nerves and fear Kyle was understandably feeling. Yet in his eyes, Kenny found determination that mirrored his own. Leave it to Kyle to want to push forward into hell itself despite the real risk it posed to him.

Kenny chucked. “Honestly, those Newcomers really fucked up. Whatever their goal is, they sure as hell are gonna have a hard time accomplishing it with you on their asses.”

“True,” Kyle agreed, clearly pleased by the statement and ready to make good on it. “But you forget this is a team effort? Afterall, you're the one with the plan.”

For better or worse, Kenny figured he was right. They were in this together now. With that in mind, Kenny took a page from Kyle’s book and focused on what could be done right now.

“So what _is_ the plan?” Kyle pressed.

“Before that, we need to go over some ground rules.”

“OK, like what?" 

“First, don’t wander off without me,” Kenny said, smirking as he took Kyle’s hand in his. 

Kyle rolled his eyes, cheeks turning pink. “I don’t think that’ll be too hard, since I don’t know anything about this place. Getting lost is not on my to-do list.”

It could have very well been due to the heat that Kyle’s face was flushed. But Kenny had a feeling that the boy who dared to follow him into hell itself was still bashful enough that holding hands would make him blush. ‘ _Adorable_.’

“Alright, glad to hear it.” With his free hand, Kenny help up two fingers. “Second rule then is to do whatever I say. If I tell you to run or hide, do it.”

“Uh, isn’t that contradictory to the first one…?” Kyle couldn’t help but point out.

Kenny blinked. Huh. “Ok, fair enough, but, the first rule can be broken if I’m calling for the second --”

“Better idea,” Kyle interrupted. “If I need to run or hide, you come with me.”

Kenny sighed. “Kyle, I’m not kidding--”

“You think I am?” Kyle narrowed his eyes. “I’m not. And before you say anything, I get it, I do. You’re worried about me.” Kyle’s expression softened. “I know you always put others before yourself, and me being down here is stressing you out. But _dammit_ if you’re not gonna worry about yourself, then I will.” Kyle poked a finger at Kenny’s chest for emphasis. “Immortal or not.”

Kenny stared at Kyle, taken aback at his words. It shouldn’t have been all that surprising given how passionate and stubborn Kyle can get about people he cares about. Yet, Kenny couldn’t help but be awed by the sentiment, to be reminded he was valued. He smiled at Kyle, giving his hand a tender squeeze. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Kyle easily returned his smile.

“But you know,” Kenny continued. “Since I’m dead right now, there’s not much more anyone can do to me.”

“What?!” Kyle shouted, gapping at Kenny in disbelief. “You’re dead...? Then how am I …?”

Oh.

Kenny softly laughed as he saw the realization flash across Kyle’s face. “Don’t worry about it. Better me than you.”

At that, Kyle grumbled under his breath about immortal boys with hero-complexes as he ducked his head and leaned into Kenny’s shoulder. “...Thank you for saving me.”

“Don’t mention it. Cushioning your fall was definitely not the worst way to go.”

Despite the grim implications, Kyle laughed. “So any more rules?”

“Nah, we’re good.”

“What now, then?”

“Well, I meant to to search around this place, see if I could learn anything useful.”

The look Kyle shot him told Kenny he needed to elaborate. Problem was, Kenny wasn’t sure he could in a way that would make sense.

“I-...The first time I was killed by a Newcomer, I was investigating the pit. Next thing I know, I’m getting shoved inside. I knew immediately that whatever killed me wasn’t human. It felt…” Kenny paused, struggling to find the words to explain. “It felt so _wrong._ So dark and sinister, like it was something I was totally powerless against.”

‘ _Like a nightmare…’_

Kenny glanced at Kyle. The other was giving him is full attention, his thumb stroking his hand in a soothing manner, not a trace of judgement on his face. It was certainly comforting as he prepared to explain how his curse behaved for what felt like the millionth time. 

The blonde took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Usually, after a death, I come to in either hell or heaven, hang out for about a day or so, then wake up in my bed like nothing ever happened.” These words, such a broken record to his ears. “But when I died at the bottom of the pit, I came to in an area of hell I’d never seen before and ended up lingering for about a week down here.”

“That’s why you were gone so long,” Kyle concluded. “You were trapped down here?”

“I don’t know,” Kenny admitted. “I get the impression that because I died _in_ hell that’s why I stayed longer. All I know is that wherever I ended up, that sinister feeling, that energy, was all around me. I think I was near their base or something. That’s how I figured out those creatures were from hell. It’s like I could sense them.”

“You can sense them?” Kyle repeated.

Kenny nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Even outside of hell, being near the Newcomers, like the one pretending to be Ike, I could sense that same energy. That’s why I decided to come back down here. I figured if I could track down that energy and follow it, I’d be able to find out something.”

Kyle considered everything in silence. Kenny knew it was a lot to swallow and he could tell there were some points about this whole ordeal that Kyle wasn’t the most thrilled about. But at the end of the day, it’s the only sort of lead they had, and Kyle seemed to understand that well enough.

“Sounds as good a plan as any, dude,” Kyle finally said, giving Kenny an encouraging smile. “Lead the way.”

~0~0~

It had been several hours into their search when Kenny suggested they take shelter in a nearby cave to rest. To his surprise, Kyle didn’t object. Rather, as soon as they both had taken a seat on the stone ground with their backs against the rough cave wall, Kyle had instantly fallen sleep, complete with his cheek pressed against Kenny’s shoulder and soft snores escaping past his parted lips.

For his part, Kenny had been right at home here in hell, on account of being dead, but he could tell it was taking a toll on Kyle since he was, you know, still _alive_. But unfortunately, there wasn't anything more he could do about that other than giving Kyle a chance to rest. 

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Kenny leaned his head back, listening to everything around them, never letting his guard down.

That’s when he felt it. 

Faint at first, but soon that unmistakable, menacing energy of a Newcomer was fast approaching their position. They were a bit a ways inside the cave, but Kenny wasn’t taking any chances.

As gently and quietly as he could, Kenny removed his parka to use as a pillow for Kyle’s head, moving him to lay flat on his back. Then, Kenny stood and creeped towards the entrance of the cave, deliberately making himself the first target if something came inside.

Kenny barely managed to hold back his gasp as a familiar figure walked past the entrance, white hot rage shooting through him at the sight.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that Ike and many of their friends had been captured. To learn that one of those creatures dared to take on _that_ form…

It just made things personal.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by midori37! ^^/
> 
> This was such a fun writing challenge for me, took me outta my comfort zone as far as fics types are concerned (also irl stuffs eating up my time XD).  
> I appreciate being a part of this awesome project, thanks for having me! <3


	8. Chapter 8

Kyle hadn’t meant to fall asleep, surrounded as they were by the oppressive heat of hell. The rough stone of the cave dug into his skin and the air smoldered uncomfortably in his lungs, burned him up from the inside out, settled heavy in his head. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, hadn’t mean to leave Kenny all alone, but his body was  _ tired,  _ and soon enough he was out.

And that was when he began to dream.

He remembered, in his dreams. He remembered Kenny--all of him--from when they held hands, and kissed, and sometimes said goodbye.

He remembered how his heart felt, how it fluttered in time with the beat of Kenny’s wings, angelic white and hard to face, but so beautiful too. Every part of him was beautiful.

In his dreams, Kenny smiled at him, and loved him, and begged him not to forget. Sometimes he held him--and sometimes Kyle felt numb, and watched without feeling as he turned away and let go, of an orange parka or a limp gloved hand. 

But mostly, in his dreams, Kyle felt whole. Without him it was empty, but when feathers brushed his skin he felt warm, just right, like he could finally see. 

The only problem was, when he dreamed, it was hard to wake up.

*

When Kyle woke up, Kenny was gone. 

That was important, somehow. It felt wrong, because Kenny wasn’t supposed to be gone. Or maybe Kyle was supposed to find him? It was hard to remember in the haze. It wrapped around him like a blanket, hot and heavy and  _ dark.  _ Why was it so dark? And it was hard to breathe, too, like his body didn’t have lungs. The thought made no sense; it was hard to think. 

He knew, though, that he wanted to go home. He didn’t know where home was, in this place. He thought about a house, first, painted in a sickly green. He thought about his mom, and his dad, and his baby brother, and--a cousin, maybe? He wasn’t sure. 

He thought about a bus stop, about walking every day next to Stan. He thought about arguing and insults and Cartman, about a sudden void and roses and Butters. He had classmates: Craig, Tweek, Token, Wendy. Heidi, and Bebe, and Jimmy and Clyde. There were more--plenty more--but the thoughts slipped, and the faces shifted out of view. 

He knew these people, and he thought about them. They were a  _ part  _ of him.

But he wanted to go home, and home was not any of them.

Home was Kenny. 

And soon, he knew where he needed to go.

*

There was a familiar figure walking towards him, framed in an orange glow, blocking the entrance--and exit--of the cave, and walking, slow but sure. Kenny would recognize that gait anywhere, the rhythm of those steps, but nothing hurt as much as seeing that face. Those wide eyes and a peak of that bright, wild hair.

It was a Newcomer, because it just had to be.

And Kenny hated it, because it was wearing Kyle’s face.

He hated it just that slightest bit more when he saw how it had twisted Kyle’s face into something terrified. There was no way to mistake the look, how this fake Kyle had hunched in on itself, shoulders drawn taut, how its gaze darted about nervously, how its breath came too quick. It ached to see that look on Kyle’s face, even if it wasn’t really him, and couldn’t possibly be truly afraid. He didn’t like to think of it; Kyle and  _ afraid  _ didn’t belong in the same sentence, and yet here it was, right in front of him.

It was like something out of a nightmare.

The  _ thing _ \--not Kyle, never Kyle--caught sight of him easily, and its mouth fell open. 

“Kenny!” It called out, and began to rush towards him.

Kenny took a single, staggering step backwards. He wasn’t sure how to fight it, or how to stop them, twisted as they were by that  _ energy  _ that curled out of them like venom. He knew he needed to stop it, somehow, in order to protect Kyle--the  _ real  _ Kyle--but nothing came to mind.

It didn’t seem he needed to do anything, though, because the moment Kenny stepped back, the fake Kyle stopped.

“Kenny?” It called out, seemingly unsure. It bit its lip, nervous, so much like the real Kyle that it hurt, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

_ Everything,  _ Kenny thought, and took another step back. He knew he couldn’t run. He had to face this thing, defeat it, or maybe at the very least lead it away. No matter what, he had to keep the real Kyle alive. He couldn’t stand to lose him, and watch him be replaced. The Newcomers couldn’t have him, and Kenny was going to make sure of it. 

“Kenny,” the fake Kyle tried again. “What’s happening?”

Kenny glared at it. “Leave,” he growled, and dug in his heels. 

The fake Kyle flinched, and looked visibly distraught.

“What the--Kenny, what is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

“Leave!” Kenny snapped, louder. “You can’t trick me, so just  _ leave.” _

The fake Kyle continued to stare at him with those wide, terrible eyes. It was haunting, and wrong, the way Kenny ached for it as if it was real. They had to have known what they were doing, appearing to him as if they were Kyle, reaching into his head for his greatest weaknesses, his deepest fears. Did they think he was stupid? Or did they know how hard it would be, to turn Kyle away?

The fake Kyle’s hands balled into fists, and there was a fire in his desperate eyes that Kenny couldn’t stand to look at.

“I can’t just  _ leave _ !” It shouted back. “Something’s wrong, Kenny, and I… I don’t want to forget.”

“Forget?” Kenny asked, despite himself.

It nodded once, sharp, and pulled its gaze away. “I don’t want to forget you.”

It dawned on him, with some degree of faraway horror, that this was it. That this Kyle, and those words, were a nightmare. That this was a part of him, and testing him as best as it could. He never wanted Kyle to forget. And he never wanted Kyle to  _ have  _ to forget; beautiful, stubborn, wonderful, and intelligent Kyle. Kyle could do  _ anything,  _ and here Kenny was, destroying his memory again and again simply by existing, and being around him.

“I can’t leave you,” Kyle said, “I won’t. You always try to do things alone, Ken, and I hate it. I can help, and I want to! You know I can! I’m not going to let you be alone.”

Kenny’s breath caught in his chest and stuttered hard through the sudden ache, the sudden need. This was Kyle, and it  _ knew  _ him. All the deepest parts. He might laugh, and he felt like he could cry, but it left very little room for doubt. This Kyle was real, he  _ had  _ to be real, there was just no other way. 

Because Kenny was alone, and he had always  _ been  _ alone. But now, with Kyle, he didn’t have to be. 

“Kyle,” Kenny breathed, and the tension feel away from him like a puppet cut from its strings. Kyle took a hesitant step forward, and when Kenny didn’t back away he took another, and another, until they were face to face, and Kenny could finally reach out and touch.

He didn’t, yet, because he didn’t want Kyle to fade away.

“We can’t stay here, Kenny,” Kyle said, glancing nervously around. “It’s too risky.”

“If we keep going, will you be alright?” Kenny asked. He wasn’t sure why. Kyle was fine.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kyle said, “We just have to. We don’t have time.”

“Time?” Kenny asked. It was the apocalypse, but--when had they talked about time?

“The Newcomers won’t wait forever, you know,” Kyle told him, and Kenny nodded along because it was probably true. He could feel them, their presence pressing down on them, already somewhere in the cave. They weren’t safe like this. Not here.

Kenny pressed his face into his hands. It was overwhelming suddenly, and he felt like he needed to hide. Was that normal?

“Are you ready to go then?” He raised his head and asked instead. Kyle gave him a meaningful look and arched one eyebrow.

“Are you?”

Kenny blinked and tried to shake himself. He had to be ready, he just needed to be… So why was he holding off? 

“Kenny?” Kyle asked, and frowned in concern. He held out one hand for Kenny to take.

Kenny stared down at it. “Yeah…” He said, and reached out to take it.

The air was… cold? And suddenly, cutting sharp through the haze, Kenny heard it.

Kyle’s voice.

“Kenny!” It called, and the Kyle in front of him froze.

“Shit,” Kyle swore, under his breath.

Kenny stared up at him, unsure, and Kyle stared back at him in panic. He bit his lip again, glanced back towards the entrance of the cave, and sighed.

“I’m not leaving you Kenny,” he said, sharp and firm. “Just… Whatever you do,  _ don’t  _ trust him. You know you can’t.”

And then Kyle was off, running back towards the entrance until the orange glow outside consumed him whole and Kenny was left, staring at nothing, with Kyle’s voice loud in his head. 

“Kenny!” Kyle’s voice called again.

And everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by TrashKat ^^
> 
> I had a ridiculous amount of fun coming up with my bit to contribute, I'm so glad to have been included in this project <3 Thanks of course to everyone who sowed the seeds before me (especially midori... that chapter end omg) and I hope everyone after has fun too!


	9. Chapter 9

Stan looked down into the depths of the pit with a furrow in his brow and a hunch to his shoulders. His hands were buried in his pockets to keep warm; though he wasn’t sure he’d feel the cold through all the thoughts that were spinning around in his head.

Butters was still missing. He’d seen Henrietta barely hours ago, renewed hope that perhaps Firkle would return soon, if Ike had done so.

Stan gripped his temples, rubbing his thumb and forefinger in circles to try easing the throbbing wrongness in his mind. He tried not to think too hard about Ike. It left him feeling uncomfortable, the same way Kyle’s constant badgering on about this Kenny dude left him uncomfortable. At least Kyle having disappeared off the face of the earth also meant he didn’t have to suffer through that anymore.

He let out a sigh and shook his head, turning and heading in the direction of Tweak Bro’s. Kyle was bound to have gone off the deep end eventually with how he’d been reacting to this whole Pit of Hell stuff. If Stan didn’t know better, he’d guess that his asshole of a best friend had gone jumping into the pit chasing after his newest wild theory and to try figure out a way to fix it.

He let out a low curse as he walked face-first into a spider web. He reached up to wipe it off his face, pulling his hand back to-?

It was pretty thick, for normal spider web. Almost translucent in the morning light. He looked up to the sign post he had been walking through to catch it in, seeing it span up the length of the poles, shimmering away in blues and greens, weaving about. It reminded him of a dreamcatcher, almost.

He pulled his phone out as vibrations pulled his attention away and he began to walk again. A text from Cartman requesting his presence as the boy launched into full mission mode in an attempt to find that ‘filthy camp asshole who ran off with my money’, and a notification to tell him there were new card packs available for him to buy.

He scowled down at the phone as he swiped the notification away. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the game before in his life.

\--

_ You just keep coming back, don’t’cha? _

\--

When Kenny woke up, it was in a cold sweat and immediate horror. He looked around the small room that he called his and could stop the murmured protests of  _ no, no, no, no, no  _ falling from his lips. He scrambled to his window and nearly tore the flimsy curtain in half with his force pulling it aside.

“Shit.”

It was South Park. In all its snowy, cold, wonderful glory, and he’d never been so upset to see it.

“This can’t be happening.”

He checked his phone next – it had barely been a day since he leapt into the pit and died breaking Kyle’s fall. No way in  _ hell  _ was he resurrected already. Sure, it didn’t take too long, but he’d died  _ in hell _ . It should’ve taken longer than this! Last time it took days!

Yet here he was, watching Kevin in the driveway shovelling snow, like everything was fine.

He had to find Kyle.

His first point of call was the Broflovski Household. An unfortunate place to start, given that Ike was there. Or Ike’s copycat, at least. But for Kyle? It would be worth taking the risk of another baseball bat to the head.

But when he arrived the place was empty. No sign of Kyle, his parents, or his creepy fake-brother. No matter how loud he banged on the door he got no answer.

Instead he attempted to climb up to Kyle’s bedroom window. It didn’t surprise him that he was closed, barring him entry into the house. No way would the Broflovski family leave the house without shutting all the windows.

“What are you doing?”

He snapped his head down to see familiar eyes looking up at him, one dark brow raised in question as eyes of distrusted raked over his body.

“Stan!” he nearly fell of his perch in his excitement at seeing his old friend. “Have you seen Kyle?”

“Uh, no. He’s not back yet.”

“Back yet? From where?”

“From wherever he fucked off to…”

“And the rest of them?”

“Celebrating Ike’s return, I guess,” Stan gave a half-hearted shrug. “Seriously, dude, what are you doing?”

“I just…I need Kyle.”

“Yeah, well, join the club.”

He tore his thoughts away from  _ Kyle  _ long enough to properly focus on Stan. Considering they were childhood friends, he felt like it had been a while since he’d done that.  Sure, it was difficult to really tear his attention away from Kyle and give it to someone else these days, but he felt the cold sting of guilt for not at least being a little observant.

“Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m…fine, thanks. Who’re you again?”

Wow, fuck you too, Stanley.

“Are you…Kenny? Wait, are you Kenny?”

“What if I am?” Kenny clambered back down to the floor so he could properly deal with this.

“Last I heard Kenny tried to kill Cartman and Kyle.”

“Tried to –  _ what _ ?!”

He sucked in a breath, attempting to compose himself in the face of the betrayal he was faced with. Stan, to his credit, did wait for him to have his moment before he said anything. Once he was done, he turned to see the other boy standing there looking vaguely uncomfortable about the whole situation. Kenny didn’t really blame him. He was pretty uncomfortable with it all too.

He sucked in a breath and tried to prepare himself to convince Stan to trust him. “Look, I know it’s really weird, but ever since the ground opened up behind the U-Store-It, shit’s got pretty weird. Like, weirder than normal weird.”

“You don’t say.”

The sarcasm really  _ wasn’t helping _ . “People keep…forgetting things. Or, their memories change, or something. Or disappearing, and being…replaced, I think.”

“Right.”

“But…I think they might try get Kyle.”

It was enough to get some kind of vague response from the unhelpful asshole that stood opposite him. A flicker of recognition in his eyes and a moment of panic. He supposed it was probably a good thing that Stan’s memory of his Super Best Friend was untarnished, even if it stung a little bit. It’d be nice if he inspired that kind of panic when he disappeared.

“Who are they?” Stan asked as his eyes narrowed. “And why do you think they’re going after Kyle?”

“I…”

Kenny found himself at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure he could even explain half this shit to Stan, given he didn’t know what he was explaining. But if he didn’t come up with something then what little trust Stan was bestowing on him would quickly vanish. It was beginning to vanish, given the dubious look in his eyes.

“I’ve been calling them the Newcomers. They’re coming from the pit I’m pretty sure. Kyle and I...”

How did he win back one of his oldest’s friends trust? By telling him how he took his other oldest friend into a Hell Pit? Probably not.

Oh well.

“Kyle and I were investigating. Well I was, Kyle just kind of...”

Stan gripped the bridge of his nose and held up a hand. “Just - I can guess what Kyle did. Why isn’t he with you now?”

“I lost him.”

“You  _ lost  _ him?”

“I was hoping he’d come back up, like I did, but he hasn’t and I think he’s still-!”

The look on Stan’s face changed. He lost the colour in his face as his eyes focused somewhere behind Kenny. The blonde had to force himself to turn around and see what it was that had inspired such fear in Stan’s eyes. When he did turn, he really wished he hadn’t.

“Boy, you just don’t quit, do you?”

“Okay…” Kenny took a step back towards where Stan was. “I get why you said Kenny was trying to kill Cartman and Kyle now.”

“Is that…?”

“A Newcomer.”

The mirror image of his own eyes looked over his shoulder to where Stan was standing, a dry smile on his face as his voice filled the air: “I don’t suppose I could convince you he’s full of shit, Stan?”

“Holy shit what the fuck is happening?”

The Newcomer gave a hefty sigh before he began to roll up his sleeves and withdrew a pocket knife from his trousers. “That’s okay. You won’t be missed.”

As the other Kenny began to charge forward, Stan grabbed his hand. Kenny found himself dragged towards the Marsh household. He let out a yelp as Stan ripped the door open and threw him inside just before the Newcomer reached the door and drove the knife into his arm. He struck lucky, avoiding much more than a small scratch and a torn hoodie, before Stan let go of him and headed straight or the stairs.

Kenny turned to face himself, eyes wide and on the defensive at the wide smile and glinting knife that was raised towards him. “What the fuck do you want?”

“The same as every other one of us who’s come after you: for you to stop getting in our way.”

“You’re kidnapping people, replacing them with weird, psychotic versions of themselves. I’m not going to stand by and just let it happen!”

The smile turned malicious. “You don’t need to stand, you can be hung instead.”

“You won’t stop me. I’ll just come back.”

“That’s why I’m not going to kill you,” the way his voice took an unnatural dark tone sent shivers down Kenny’s spine. “I’m going to make you weak enough you can’t get in my way.”

“I’ll kill myself.”

“Not if you’re tied up, you won’t.”

He was prepared for the attack this time. As the knife came sailing towards him, Kenny ducked down low enough to ram his shoulder into the Newcomer’s side in an attempt to throw him off balance and down to the floor. His defence was also expected however as the Newcomer gripped hold of his hood and dragged Kenny with him.

They grappled against each other, Kenny having to put more attention on the knife than he would’ve liked to, but he kept it as even as he could. He got his leg up and brought his foot down hard onto the Newcomer’s knee, relishing in the cry of pain that followed and taking a few steps back to try and adjust himself and get his bearings.

The Newcomer growled at him before taking the knife and throwing it. Kenny dodged to the left just in time, watching as it bedded itself in the wall behind him, before the Newcomer slammed into him.

_ Fuck, Ken. Amateur mistake. _

They went crashing into the coffee table, Kenny letting out a strained cry as he summoned his strength and flipped the Newcomer over him and off the other side of the coffee table. He scrambled up and towards the couch, scanning the room to find something that he could use as a weapon. When he came up blank he turned to see the Newcomer heading for the knife in the wall.

“No!”

“Kenny!”

He spun to see Stan on the stairs, gun in his hands, before the barrel was turned from him to the other Kenny in the room.

The gunshot that rang out echoed in his brain.

There was a moment of panic where his memory supplied the countless times the bullet would seem to path straight to his heart, but as he grasped his jacket he confirmed there was no hole. No twist of fate sending him back to his grave.

He turned to see the fallen body of the Newcomer. He let out a shaky breath before running a hand through his hair and heading straight for the body. He rolled it over to find a rather sickening sight. He wasn’t squeamish about seeing his own dead body, he spent a quarter of his time being dead, but there was a strange, veiny pattern in his skin that sent a feeling of pure  _ wrongness  _ through his bones.

Spiderwebs. They reminded him of spiderwebs.

“Is he dead?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty dead.”

“Shit.”

Kenny turned to look at his old friend. Stan’s hands were trembling as they held the gun close and his face was void of colour. Kenny gave his best supportive smile as he spoke. “For your first shot, that was pretty good.”

“It wasn’t my first,” Stan admitted. “I’ve shot it before. But – only clay pigeons. My uncle-!”

“Bought it for your thirteenth birthday. I remember.”

Stan’s face took on a new look. His brows pulled together as his shaking calmed down and his eyes raked over Kenny’s body, as if searching for something. “Kyle said…that I know you. I do, don’t I?”

He nodded.

“Why don’t I remember you?”

“I don’t know. I honestly…I don’t know.”

Stan headed over and the paleness of his cheeks took on more of a green shade at the sight of Kenny’s dead alter-ego.

“Please don’t throw up.”

“No, I won’t, it’s – he looks like he has spiderwebs under his skin.”

“He does, yeah.”

“I’m never going to be able to walk through a cobweb again.”

Kenny snorted at that as he began to arrange the body to be picked up and taken away. “You walk into them often?”

“Recently, yeah. I swear they’re pretty active, especially with all this snow.”

Kenny frowned at that, picking himself up bridal style. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, dude. They’re…”

Stan finally lowered the gun, his lips pursing in thought.

“Henrietta once told me spiderwebs can be used like dream-catchers in some myths and spells.”

“Dream-catchers?”

“Yeah. You don’t think they could…catch memories?”

Kenny felt a smile begin to creep across his face. “Stan, you genius.”

“What?”

“Nothing, help me find somewhere to dump this asshole. Then I need to get back down to hell.”

“Uh…right. Sure.”

“You can drop the gun, y’know?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed at the corpse in his arms. “I’d rather not chance it.”

They headed out towards the U-Store It. It took longer than usual, but that might’ve had something to do with the fact they were trying to sneak a dead body with them. If they’d planned better they would’ve done more than just put a blanket over the top of him that they kept having to adjust because of the wind, but they were in a rush here. They had to get Kenny back down for Kyle.

They had a close encounter with Tweek, and Kenny wasn’t convinced that the erratic blonde  _ hadn’t  _ seen him, but Stan did his best to distract the blonde with a bright smile and exaggerated wave as Kenny snuck down below the windows of the coffee shop. Stan caught up to him quickly with a shake of his head.

It was still giving off a funny smell. Not as strong as it had been, but Kenny wasn’t sure that wasn’t because they’d all got kind of use to it by this point. At least his sense of smell was back for a while before he started picking up shifts again.

“Are you really going down there?”

Kenny shrugged as he put the body down at the edge. “I’m not going to leave him down there. Not again.”

“He seems really fond of you.”

He turned a badly suppressed smile to Stan, seeing the dark-haired boy awkwardly fidgeting in place with the gun still in his hands. It was kind of sweet, really, the brotherly affection that they held for each other. “Don’t worry, Stanny-boy. I won’t go breaking his heart.”

Stan flushed as he realised how transparent he was being. “Yeah, well, I hope he doesn’t break yours, either.”

Kenny huffed out as he rolled the body of the Newcomer off the edge and into the pit. Hopefully it would give him something to land on. “I trust him.”

“I guess you’re pretty fond of him too.”

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

Stan finally lowered his guard and his gun down properly as they watched the body disappear from sight, no sound of it hitting the ground coming back up. Kenny wasn’t sure how the exact physics of a Pit of Hell was supposed to work though. 

He stood and turned to Stan with a raised brow. “How did you know which one of us to shoot? He’d lost his knife. It could’ve been me picking it out the wall?” 

“Well, I mean, you do have a slash in your sleeve, but…” Stan grimaced and gave a helpless shrug. “Honestly? I kinda just guessed.” 

Kenny nearly choked on a bark of laughter. “You  _ guessed  _ at shooting me?” 

“Don’t say it like that. I shouted your name! I just...hoped you were the one to turn.” 

Kenny gave him a rough shove. “Thanks, asshole. I’m glad to have put my life in your hands.” 

“Don’t tell Kyle. He’ll kill me.” 

He gave a snort of laughter at the image his brain brought forth, Kyle Broflovski in full fury-mode. “I won’t. He’d kill me too, for fighting a guy with a knife.” 

“I just…be careful, okay?” Stan muttered as they stood at the edge of Hell. “Bring him back safe.”

“I will. I promise,” Kenny looked up at the pale face with a wry grin. “I won’t leave him down there again.”

“And if this…another Newcomer, comes to visit us. What do I do?”

He didn’t have an answer to that. He didn’t have an answer to what he should do if any of the Newcomers showed up. He hesitated for too long and Stan gave a heaving sigh before nodding his head.

“Right. I’ll just…hope he doesn’t.”

“You’ll be fine, Stan. I know you will.”

“Good luck.”

“You too. Here’s hoping third time’s lucky!”

But this time he had a sense of direction going down. Before he began spider hunting and found the void that the Newcomers were appearing form, he had to find Kyle. And  _ nothing  _ would stop him finding Kyle. He just hoped the one he found was the right one.

Just hoped that Kyle was safe down in hell on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by Kivea! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
